


Conflict of Interest

by Yel_Ashaya



Series: All's Fair in Love and War [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Civil War, Enterprise, F/M, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Private Conflict, Rebellion, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 12:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 48,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yel_Ashaya/pseuds/Yel_Ashaya
Summary: Three years after 'PRIVATE CONFLICT', Lt Gina Monroe is visiting Markeil on his homeworld Hypnos. But it turns into a life-or-death struggle for Gina, Markeil and the crew of the Enterprise when they investigate mysterious quakes on Hypnos. Secrets, enemies and hidden desires are revealed, as Gina tries to balance her past with her present, in which she has a husband and a son. The second part inthe 'All's Fair in Love and War' series.





	1. Re-Establishing

**This is set towards the end of series 7, about three years after my fic _Private Conflict,_ in which Commander Data and Lieutenant Gina Monroe were held captive on an alien world. The planet Hypnos had been engaged in a bloody war with its twin planet, Thanatos, and Captain Picard had been  _en route_  to a peace conference to seal the end of the conflict when he mysteriously went missing. Data and Gina was sent to investigate but fell prey to the Hypnite prison guard Markeil, who held a strong dislike for Data and a strong like for Gina.**

**In this sequel, Lieutenant Monroe has settled into a regular life in Starfleet; she has pushed past events to the back of her mind, is married with a child, and is enjoying her time on the _Enterprise._ But after what starts off as an innocent trip to visit Markeil soon turns into a life-or-death struggle, as the  _Enterprise_ is forced to investigate a series of strange destructive tremors on Hypnos, and the cause of these disasters shocks them all. Gina and Markeil soon find, however, that there even more powerful forces at work.**

**It would be sensible to read _Private Conflict_ before reading this, but it's not necessary.**

**I also would like to express my thanks to those of you who read _Private Conflict;_ I hope you enjoy the sequel just as much.**

**As always, I'd welcome reviews :-)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, only my OCs.**

Gina Monroe was sat in a shuttle bound for Hypnos. It had been three years since she had last been there. As she looked out of the windows, she could see how the planet had changed. The labour camps had all but diminished and the majority of the infrastucture was starting to be rebuilt. It made her so happy, so pleased, that the Hypnites had managed to settle their differences after that turbulent time all those years ago.

For a lot of the journey - it took many hours to get from the Utopia Planitia Ship Yards orbiting Earth to Hypnos - she had been asleep. But her slumber was often interrupted by the child sat next to her, her child. As most toddlers were, he was boisterous and noisy, and had gained the annoyed looks of many other passengers on the transport, on more than one occasion.

"Are we there yet?"

Gina cast her gaze downwards and saw her son looking up at her with his inquisitive eyes. She smiled. "I would say so," she replied, as the Starfleet engineer inside her came out and she tried to calculate the rate of descent.

An announcement soon rang out over the tanoy system, alerting the passengers that they were very nearly at their destination. Most of the people on the ship were Hypnites, probably eager to return to their homes after the upset. But there were a few of other species, like Gina and her son.

"What do you think daddy's doing?"

She shrugged and began to pack up her things. "I don't know, Jack. But he's probably very busy."

"Why isn't he coming too?"

Gina rubbed her nose and sighed. "You know daddy is at Vulcan this week, don't you? That's why you're with me. Now, let's put your coat on. It's probably cold on the surface."

As the vehicle landed on the surface of Hypnos, the pilot announced a few more messages - lost luggage, health and safety, well-wishes - that sort of thing. Then the doors were opened with a hydraulic hiss and the steps were deployed.

With the suitcases in one hand and Jack's hand in the other, Gina hobbled down the steps. A Hypnite passenger helped her with some of the bags, for which she thanked him. She had to remind her son many times not to stare at the aliens - they were only different to humans in respect to their nearly white faces, and were hardly Klingons or Breen, but there were still strange.

They had landed in the north of the planet, in one of the most congested transport hubs. There were hovercar bays and hovertrain railroads running nearby, adjacent to the off-world transport shuttles.

"Where are we going?" Jack asked as he hurried alongside his mother, hauling his stuffed dinosaur behind him.

Gina held her son back and put the luggage down, surveying the area. An interactive map stood at the side of the street. She keyed in a few coordinates, having wasted a few moments trying to figure out how the thing was meant to work.

"We're not too far, honey," she told her son, who was growing fidgety.

The street was not as busy as she had been expecting it to be. There were a few groups of people wandering about but the traffic was flowing freely and there was plenty of room to move.

Jack huffed, his little legs dawdling along beside Gina. "Are we there yet?" he asked again and again.

She smiled genially at him. "Darling, we'll get there twice as quickly if you stop complaining."

"Can't you carry me?"

"I've got all of our suitcases to carry, so no, I can't."

That put an end to that, and he seemed content to hurry along next her, pointing out things of vague interest around them.

"What is that?" he asked, his bright eyes in awe.

She squinted at the horizon. A huge tower, grey and silver, sparkling in the early evening sunlight, stood out against the stark sky. A great crater was in one side of the tower; evidently, it had been hit by some missile or another.

"Can you take Spiny?" he asked, proffering his dinosaur toy to her. "Why has that place got a hole in it?"

"I think it might have gotten a bit windy," she feigned, stuffing the toy in her bag. Yet as she looked at the crater, she could not help but wonder about the devastation that had been wrought on the planet. She had been there. Of course, she knew all too well what it was like. But she had not seen the worst of it; that, she knew. It was indeed hard for her to draw her attention away from the damaged building.

"Why are we here?" little Jack asked, his voice a high-pitched whine.

She reorganised the bags that she was carrying before answering. "Because there's someone who lives here who I wish to visit," was just about the best reply she could give.

"Do I know them?" he asked, looking up at her with big, curious eyes.

"No," she said with a shake of her head. She had only brought him because she could not get a childminder at such short notice. But she wasn't starting to regret the decision, as had been her first fear. Certainly, she wondered if it would be reckless to bring a small child - especially one as inquisitive as her Jack - to what had only recently been a war zone. But the planet and the people were getting back to their feet, and no more conflict had occurred for years even. "No, you don't know them," she added softly.

Sat on the horizon, she could just about make out what used to be the capitol building, the headquarters. Where she had spent months of her life three years previous, with the man who had basically saved her life. She wondered if she could ever thank him properly. But as those wistful memories came rushing back to her mind, she knew that she had to stop them before she went too far. Of course, he had saved her, but only after victimising her in the first place, right? Angrily, she shook her head.

Little Jack was shuffling his feet on the stony ground, getting increasingly frustrated. "Can I have Spiny back?"

At once, she was drawn out of her reverie. She sighed and drew the plush dinosaur out of the bag. "Yes, but you keep hold of him now. I'm not putting him away again."

Excitedly, he retrieved the toy dinosaur, hugging it close to his small chest. "Can we go now?"

She drew out a padd from her pocket and studied it closely for a moment. Pulling up some files, she frowned. "Uh, yes, yes," she said to her son, not looking at him. "Mummy's just a bit lost." In contemplation, she bit her lip.

A shadow loomed over her. Startled briefly, she looked up. "What are you-" she began, her voice accusatory and irritated, but it mellowed when she realised who she was talking to. "I know you, don't I?"

He shrugged and smiled, his extraordinarily pale face shining out against the darkening sky. "My name's Nilal," he replied simply, regarding her closely. Hunkering down to his knees, he smiled at Jack. "And who's this?"

Gina watched his facial expressions intently. No doubt, he was trying to gauge if the boy's skin colour was pale enough to suggest Hypnite genetics.

Jack shrunk back from the man and clung to his mother's leg.

Gina set her luggage down on the ground and picked him up in her arms, soothing him. "There's no need to be frightened, Jack," she said softly, stroking his head. "This is Nilal. He's a friend of mummy's."

Nilal nodded to the dinosaur toy that Jack was clutching tightly. "Now that's a strange beast, isn't it?"

Jack rewarded him with a small smile.

"What are you doing here, if I may ask?" Nilal asked her, as he gathered up some of her suitcases in to his arms, despite her protests.

"I'm visiting Markeil," she replied bluntly; what was the point in being secretive? "But I seem to be lost."

Nilal chuckled quietly. "Oh, I see," he said, before being silent for a while, apparently at a loss as to what to say. "Well, I've joined the Science Commission," he added.

She smiled. "That's a big leap from secretary," she teased.

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk. "Personal assistant, I think it was," he corrected, with an air of mock-indignance. "Right, well, uh, Markeil, you say? You're in the right place."

"I'm bored," Jack complained, pulling at the spines of his plush dinosaur.

"Jack, be quiet," she ordered curtly, and the boy soon fell silent. "I know more or less where Markeil lives now. We have been in contact - sort of."

A mischievous glint remained in Nilal's eye, but he did not give it voice, for which Gina was quite thankful. "Well, his job's gotten him quite a grand place," he continued. "Give me your padd and I'll have a look."

She did so, and he checked up a few things on the device, before nodding in understanding and looking up at the sky. "Ah, yes," he mouthed, rubbing his forehead. "You see that great big grey building there?" He pointed due east, right near what appeared to be a brand new building. Not exactly a building, more a complex. A huge complex, with sprawling roads and wires leading out of it. It was a few dozen metres wide and high, with a single flag protruding on a large pole out of the building's center. The dying afternoon sunlight glinted off of the shiny, glass exterior in a way that was almost magical. It could have been plucked straight out of a fairytale. She found herself reminded of those stories that her mother would read to her before she went to bed when she was younger. Not holonovels but real books. She thought of Hans Christian Anderson.

She looked on in awe. "That is indeed a grand place," she echoed. It was a far cry from the crowded, dark place that she had last seen Markeil in. Times had indeed changed. "Well, thank you for the directions," she said, giving Nilal an appreciative look. "Jack, say thank you to Nilal."

Nilal smiled at the pair of them, but gestured to the the bags that she was carrying. "Do you want me to carry these for you?"

She smiled genially, thankfully. "That would be kind of you." She squinted at the great building in the distance - Markeil's new home - and frowned. "It'll be quite a walk."

"Now, it wouldn't exactly be fair for you to walk, would it? Especially not with this one in tow." He gave her a wry smile; it seemed that Jack understood his meaning, for his face achieved a suspicious look. "I'll drive you, if you want."


	2. The Journey

The hovercar journey had consisted of a few patches of awkward silence, but was mostly populated by Jack's incessant questions and Nilal's explanation of what had exactly transpired on Hypnos since Gina had left almost half a decade ago.

Nilal opened the hovercar's door and Gina slid out of the vehicle, before retrieving her son. Nilal seemed more than content to carry the luggage, though it was quite cumbersome. Gina could barely suppress a smile; the last time she had seen the man, he had been a young, nervous pen-pusher. But years had passed and times had changed, so she kept reminding herself.

And it was now that she found herself truly thinking about Markeil. General Markeil. What was he doing now? He had made a good name for himself, no doubt, in the new Hypnos. For, he had a great position in the newly rebuilt government and whenever she and him had talked previously, he seemed eminently happy. On the face of it, though. She had spent months with him - alone - and she knew him rather well for it.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Nilal asked as the three of them walked to the great complex, the red dwarf's pale light glinting off of his face.

She shook her head but smiled. "No, thank you. No doubt you've got other things to be doing."

They bid each other goodbye and wished each other well, but now it was time for Gina to confront the past that she had left behind.

"That's a very big house," little Jack noted, having clocked the looming presence of the great complex in which Markeil supposedly lived.

Gina gave her small son a smile. "Yes, it is a very big house, isn't it? But don't let that worry you now." It reminded her of those grand stone fortresses in which the leaders of Earth countries used to live, hundreds of years ago.

"Shall I carry one of the bags for you?"

She had a think about it. There were heavy suitcases and then there were the lighter ones. In the end, she handed over to him a small rucksack filled with some of his toys. He took is delightedly, no doubt pleased that he could show his mother how useful he could be. She reached out her free hand and took hold of him, leading him up to the front door of the complex.

"Hello, can I help you?" the Hypnite man who was stood directy on the other side of the door asked of her, once he had registered that she wasn't quite the same species as he was. She tried to figure out who he was; she hadn't seen him before. The she finally decided that he was a servant, a valet of some kind.

She nodded and offered him a nervous smile. Flicking her long hair behind her back and out of her face, she dug out a padd. She pulled up a log of Markeil's invitation for her and her son to visit, and the guard scrutinised it.

Handing the device back to her, he nodded curtly, waving a hand to a turbolift door on the far right. "Very good, Ma'am. Would you like your luggage to be brought up by a servant?"

"That would be great, thanks," she agreed. "Oh, and General Markeil is here, isn't he?"

He seemed a little stumped by her question - it had such an obvious answer. Seeing his confusion, she laughed anxiously. "Ignore me. Of course he is. It's just... well, I've not been back here for a few years."

That timescale seemed to reawaken in him the memories of his planet's past, and he appeared uncomfortable. "I see, Ma'am. Mitol will be taking your luggage up for you."

"Thank you. Oh, and never mind about what I said," she said, with a gesture of her hand. She took her son's hand again, telling him to say goodbye and thank you to the guard.

There was a stark contrast between the cavernous, deathly white decor of the entrance hall, and the small, confined turbolift that she and her son were now travelling in. It was made to feel a little bigger due to the absence of their bulky luggage. There was also a window in the lift, and through it, Gina could observe the true extent of the toll that the wars had taken on the world.

The sky was bright and beautiful, being a shade somewhere between green and blue. In the distance, the waters of the Eastern Ocean shimmered, and she found herself reminded of the polluted look that the ocean had taken on just half a decade before. The buildings were a strange mixture of old and new; some of the bomb-damaged structures were still standing tall, but crumbling nonetheless, and directly beside these were the newly-built buildings erected in the years after the peace between the Hypnites and the Thanatosians.

The bell dinged and Jack announced that they had reached their destination.

"It looks like we're here," Gina muttered, her heart pounding intensely, her brain spinning, as if it were trying to tell her that she should not be there. That she should not have come. But she shook her head and freed her mind from those thoughts. It was a stupid subconscious worry, that's all.

The inside of the building as a whole reminded her of a great stately home back on Earth, a grandiose affair tucked away amongst the rolling hills and green fields of the English countryside, but where there would have been wooden wall panels there was stark white, where there would have been great chandeliers there was just empty ceiling. However, there were a few relics of ancient times - landmarks of Hypnite history - dotted around the house, and Gina had no doubt that it belonged to Markeil.

When she stepped out of the lift, she saw that the decor of the downstairs had been carried through the building; it was bright, chrome-infused. She spied who she assumed was a young Hypnite - his pale skin, jet-black hair and gangly limbs gave it away - pushing a hover-dolly with their suitcases on top of it. He disappeared aorund a corner, having pointed to the destination door.

Making sure that her son was with her and had not wandered off somewhere, Gina pressed the communication panel on the side of a door, the grandest door. "Uh... hi," was all that she could manage to say. "You've been expecting me?"

The door slid open and Jack giggled as the cold air rushed past him. Once the doors had opened, the bright, chrome-infused hallway was replaced by a large, dark room clad in mahogany and metal, with an infinitely high celing. It smelled of spices, burning spices, and strangely, it reminded Gina of that compound where she had first met Markeil all those years ago.

Two figures caught her eye: the first was the footman who was just delivering the luggage and such, but the second caused her heart to leap and her mind to faint. The footman bowed to the other person in the room, then to Gina, and then left without saying a word.


	3. Close Encounters

**A/N: I just had to mention _Pride and Prejudice_ (again).**

"It's been so long," he said, his voice taking on an uncharacteristic softness. He stepped out of the shadows and, despite the darkness, Gina could make out a smile on his sharp features.

"I'm scared," Jack murmured, pressing his face into Gina's leg. She bent down and picked him up in her arms; he weighed quite a bit and she couldn't heave him up without making a noise.

"Lights, sixty-percent," Markeil announced, and the darkness was instantly gone.

"Oh, Gina, I have missed you," he declared, smiling whole-heartedly at her. But it was a sort of bitter smile, and as soon as he caught sight of the small child in her arms, he couldn't help but falter.

Gina could not stop a smile from forming on her lips. "This is Jack, my son," she introduced Markeil to the child.

"He's very handsome," Markeil observed, a sad grin on his lips. "How old is he?"

"He's two and a half," she replied, glancing at the boy briefly. "Aren't you?" The boy nodded proudly.

"Good. Now, you must have a seat, and we will talk. It has been so long, and if I'm honest, I had no idea if you would agree to see me."

Gina raised an eyebrow at that, completely taken unawares. She took a seat, as had been asked of her, but regarded the man sternly. "What do you mean?" She looked into her eyes, and she found herself looking closely than she should have done. He did not appear as thin as he had been when she had last seen him; but his eyes were still as blue, his hair still as dark and his skin still as pale.

He shook his head and sighed. "Ah. That was an unfortunate choice of words. I simply meant, I knew that you had started a new life, and I couldn't help wondering if you just wanted to move on... and forget about me."

"How could I forget you?" she reasoned, setting Jack down on the floor. She handed him a padd and suggested that he play with it. The delighted child then waddled off and did just that.

Finally, Markeil stopped pacing and sat down beside her.

After a moment of silence, she said, "I bumped into Nilal on the way here. He's told me an awful lot about you, and it's all very impressive."

He seemed a bit embarrassed, but was more than glad for her to continue.

"I mean, this house is fantastic," she opined, having a cursory glance around the place. House was probably the wrong word. Estate? Complex? "And the rebuilding scheme on Hypnos is so wonderful. I know it's been a few years, but what does that matter? The fact that it's happening is great."

"It has taken some time, yes," he conceded. "But I do believe that it has all be worthwhile." He found that wherever he tried to look, his gaze was always drawn to her. She was sat so near to him, but he had to leave it there. Whether he liked it or not. "And, you yourself?"

She smiled. "Well, I... I married." She nodded over to Jack in the corner. "As you can see."

"I am very pleased for you," he opined, desperate to appear nothing but pleased for her. "And you are still in Starfleet, I take it?"

"Uh uh," she replied. "I'm still on the  _Enterprise,_  and it's still a great deal of fun. I'm a lieutenant now. I've been offered a position on another ship, though."

"Will you take it?" he asked.

She sighed, biting her lip. "I have no idea. I mean, all of my friends are on the  _Enterprise."_

He nodded, seemingly agreeing with her. No doubt, she meant Data, he mused. "And it is is a magnificent ship, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, it's the flagship... but times change, don't they?"

"They do indeed."

"Markeil... can I ask you something?"

He looked at her, his eyes watching hers intently. "Of course," he said, with a curt nod.

With her gaze down at the floor, her fingers fidgeting in her lap, she asked him quietly, "Have you met anyone?"

The question seemed to completely pass over his head then, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. But he knew full well what she meant; he would be lying to himself if he pretended not to. "No. I have not."

"Oh." The word was barely spoken; she merely opened her lips and whispered it.

"There has never been anyone else," he added, though his tone was still utterly closed and cryptic.

"Well, I'm sure there will be many lovely women," she said, trying to make him feel better. But her attempts were not well received.

"There may well be," he muttered. "There are." He suddenly sounded rather arrogant. "But I do not care."

Inside her brain, her thoughts all came crashing down. She had barely been in the room for five minutes, and she had already put her foot in it. She cursed herself under her breath and groaned. "I am sorry," was just about all she had left in her repertoire.

"Don't be," he quipped. "It's not your fault."

"Markeil, you do know that it's all right to... move on, don't you?"

He shook his had angrily and turned away from her, standing up quickly. He was frustrated at best, but he did not want to upset her, especially not when her young son was present. But he had no idea how long he could keep his feelings hidden away, locked away. It had been three years, and he did not know if he could wait another three years. But she was married and settled, and that was that.

Gina glanced worriedly over at her son, who was still playing happily by himself, but it would not be long before he picked up that something wasn't quite right. She lifted herself from off of the couch and went over to Jack, hunkering down so that she was at eye-level with him.

"Markeil?" she called. "I don't suppose Jack could spend some time with one of your servants, could he?"

He nodded, still not facing her. "I'll call for someone to come up."

The door's communication panel buzzed soon afterwards, and Markeil opened the channel. "Sir, you called?" a woman's voice announced on the other side of the door. Markeil pressed a command and the door slid open. Waiting in the doorway was a young Hypnite woman. As with all other members of her species, her skin was very pale and her hair was nothing but black. She was dressed in simple garb, something oddly militaristic, but she had a kind, pretty face, and Gina had no qualms about leaving her son with her.

"Ah, you were good to come up here so quickly, Orelia," Markeil observed.

Gina held out her hand to beckon Jack over, and her son followed her shyly. He clung onto his toy dinosaur, hiding behind it.

"Hello," the Hypnite woman said, kneeling down to be at his level. "My name is Orelia. What's yours?"

Jack murmured his name so quietly that the woman couldn't hear it, but with his mother's persuasion he soon found his tongue.

"Well then, Jack," Orelia said, her hands on her hips. "Would you like to come with me? We could go for a walk? Maybe I could take you on a little tour. Would you like that?"

Jack looked uncertainly up at Gina, who gave him an encouraging smile. "Go on, Jack. You like exploring, don't you?"

Jack suddenly smiled with glee. He glanced up at Markeil, who was rubbing his chin, and said excitedly, "My Daddy's an explorer."

Markeil, despite himself, grinned at the little boy. "And I'm sure he's very proud of you."

Gina saw him out of the corner of her eye. Then Jack waved at her goodbye, following Orelia out of the room.

Markeil cleared his throat. "Thank you, Orelia," he told her firmly as the woman left, for she had caught his eye on the way out. There was no denying the way that Markeil regarded the young serving woman. She was undeniably attractive; Gina wasn't going to refute that.

Gina returned to where Markeil was. He had not really moved from his present position, but had since retrieved a glass of something fizzy for himself and was sipping at it tentatively. The sight reminded her unhelpfully of that time she had accompanied Markeil to that dinner on her first night as his comfort woman.

When the door glided shut again, Markeil realised that he was not alone, and he set the glass down on a table.

"Now, can we talk?" Gina asked, a sort of pleading tone coming through in her voice.

He nodded and finally looked over at her. "I will not 'move on', as you say. What is the point? I only ever loved-"

Gina shook her head, her hair flying about her face. "No, no, Markeil. Don't say that. You invited me - and my son - over here, remember? So don't say that you can't cope with my being here."

"I thought I could," he murmured. "I thought I could."

"Markeil, I've not seen you for years, nor you me. It was strange, I admit that, for the first few months after a returned to Starfleet. But then I got married and had Jack, and well, everything fell into place."

"It's not been quite so easy for me," he replied brusquely.

His harsh reply hurt her. "I'm not saying that it should be. Only-"

"You think I need to forget about what we had, find a new lover, and forget about you?"

She shook her head. "I never forgot about you, Markeil. But it has been many years."

"I..." His voice was broken; he could no longer think of anything else to say. "I still love you, Gina."

Her heart faltered, she blinked away a few pre-eminent tears. "Markeil, don't say that."

He took a step forward and reached a hand out. It brushed her cheek, and she instantly looked away, and he let his hand fall limply by his side. "It is the truth."

"It cannot be," she reasoned, trying to find any sort of justification. "You're not thinking straight. Please, Markeil, don't do this."

Her beautiful face was marred by concern, he saw, and he had no desire to make her feel more pain. So he stepped away from her and rubbed his temples, as if the motion could remove his thoughts. She took a deep breath and took his hand in hers. "Markeil, I think I loved you too, once, in the past. But now I am married. Do not say you love me now."

"I am sorry," he muttered, his voice totally broken and defeated. "I know it is wrong. But I hope that this will not dissaude you from staying a little longer."

A small, sympathetic smile formed on her lips. "I did bring a lot of luggage," she conceded.

"There is no need for you to worry about Jack," he then reassured her.

"Thank you. The serving lady was very nice. Orelia, I think she was called."

He pursed his lips. "Orelia. Yes, she is, isn't she?"

Gina had not quite heard his last remark; his voice had been very quiet. "I'm sorry?"

"I said... never mind."

Gina looked over at Markeil. "I thought you told me there was nobody else?"

He opened his mouth but no words came out. Musing for a while, he said, "And that was the truth."

"Was it?" Her tone of voice was challenging, inquisitive. She had to know the answer. As much as she did not want to admit it to herself, as much as she would tell herself that she didn't need to know, that she didn't have to know... But she was brought back to reality, to the there and the now, by something unknown. She cleared her throat, looked away, looked at the door. "It's none of my business anyway," she said quietly.

Markeil raised an eyebrow, watching her curiously. He got to his feet and went over to the replicator. "Are you thirsty?" he asked over his shoulder, keying commands into the machine.

She thought. "I suppose. It was a long journey, after all. Yes, I will have a drink."

Moments later, he had returned, and was sat next to her. She felt the couch dip when he sat beside her. He handed her glass to her. She studied it; it was green, bubbly and smelt sweet. She took a sip. "It's nice. I... I recognise it."

He smiled. "You do?"

Then her eyes darkened. "And I know where from."

"All of those years ago, and yet you remember it like it's yesterday," he said wistfully.

She wasn't entirely sure what to make of that. Was he praising her? Was he starting to fully see how much affected by the past – their past – she was?

"You enjoyed that party, I think," he said, sounding detached. "Of course, you were scared at first-"

"I was not scared," she defended herself, putting her glass down.

"As you wish," he said, raising his hands in mock-surrender. "You were... unnerved." He saw that she had narrowed her eyes, so he added, "Which can only have been expected in the circumstances. But the two of us, we talked and talked. I introduced you to some of my favourite dishes, to my species' best foods. I told you about my past."

She was transported back to that time. Back to that evening – the first day that she had met Markeil – when he took her as his guest to a high society party. Where they talked to each other as old friends might. Where they compared their respective cultures. Where he had saved her from being the victim of an assault. When he had carried her back to their quarters. Her head suddenly hurt. She rubbed it and sighed.

"I think what's left in the past should stay in the past," she said.

Markeil frowned. "You're denying that you enjoyed your time with me?"

Gina was suddenly angry. "I'm not denying anything," she said hotly. "Sometimes I felt safe with you, sometimes I felt that I made you feel safe, but I never felt that we were on the same page. And what we had... it's in the past."

He looked hurt. He cleared his throat and rubbed the nape of his neck. "I remember," he said abruptly, changing the course of the subject completely. "When you first met me, you compared me to someone. To a character, a fictional character, I believe it was. Three years is a long time, more than the time required to read some ancient, alien text."

Gina watched him warily. Her fingers tapped her glass anxiously. She was worried, concerned, but she knew not what of.

"A rather dull text on the whole, I found," he continued. "But I finally understand the comparison that you drew between me and the character. Who was it? Yes, that's it, Mr Darcy."

"Markeil, I don't really-" she began, but she was interrupted.

"I was particularly interested in one particular aspect of the character. That is, his relationship with Elizabeth Bennett."

Her pulse was starting to quicken and her heart was beginning to pound in her chest. She knew what he was going to say.

"Elizabeth Bennett loved Mr Darcy, did she not?" He took her silence as a 'yes'. "And yet she pushed him away, she tried to make herself believe that she did not love him."

"Because he was classist and rude," she retorted.

"And yet she was proud," he finished.

"Markeil, if you're attempting to find some sort of parallel between the two of us and some characters out of a book, then-"

"Why not?" he challenged her. "You did the very same."

"Yes, but... I was confused. I'd been in a shuttle crash, I'd been imprisoned, I'd gotten very ill, and I'd become the consort of an alien!"

"So you cannot deny that the parallel does serve a purpose?" He stood up, paced, his hands draped behind his back. "You are a proud young woman, Gina. You serve Starfleet, your husband, your son, with the utmost integrity. And you are too proud to admit the truth."

"Oh, and I suppose that truth is that I love you?"

He did not say anything. His quietness infuriated her. "I didn't say it back then and I'm not going to say it now. I'm married, Markeil, for God's sake! I have a child! I'm happy. I was happy. Before you contacted me and invited me and we had this stupid conversation!" With that, she jumped to her feet, desperate to get away from him, away from whatever had happened in the past. No sooner had she gotten up than he had joined her, falling in step behind her. She span around, anger written all over her face, and regarded him. "Markeil, leave me be."

He raised his hands, as if backing off, but did not move away. "Gina, please," he began.

She shook her head, sighed and glanced up at the high ceiling. "Don't say anything, Markeil. Just... just let me go to my son. I really should check on him... we've been talking for quite some time."

His hand shot out and took hers before she could even react. "Will you look at me?" he asked; it was a request, not a demand, and it had been spoken softly.

She slowly acquiesed and regarded him with her bright eyes. She seemed to be silently pleading with him, willing him not to say anything that might jeopardise the life that she had since made for herself, and her son, and her husband.

Markeil pursed his lips. "By all means, collect your son. Bring him back in here and let me see him properly. I'm sure he's missing his mother." He gave her a short smile. "But, do not leave. Not yet. I am sorry if I have upset you. I did not intend to. I, however, take full responsibility. After all, I invited you here. You must, however, understand that I have missed your company, and that I am not quite sure of how to react now that you and I are so close to each other."

Gina looked, and felt, uneasy. She cast a nervous glance towards the door, as if willing her son to come toddling in so that she could sweep him up in her arms. "I don't know-" she began, uncertain. "I don't know if I can do this."

"If you want to leave, then that is fine. I shall not stop you," he said firmly, but he was trying to convince himself that those words were true. "It is your choice. All of those years ago, you tried to escape, you tried to leave me."

"That's not exactly the same thing," she said quickly, raising an eyebrow.

"Hear me out," he countered. "I woke up one morning and you were gone, simply gone. I railed upon my guards to find you but they were useless. Then I located you; you were with that android man."

Data, she thought absently, wondering what he was getting up to, if he was attending to his duties in Engineering, or perhaps in Ten Forward with Geordi, or maybe serving his captain on the ship's main bridge.

"You had crept out of the complex, in the middle of the night, and you had found him," Markeil continued. She noted how he was careful not to say Data's name. "You were speaking with him; I did not hear all that was said. You promised that the two of you would escape. And you promised him, I believe, that you were being looked after. That you were not placed in harm's way."

"Do you still think about that, then?" Gina asked in a small voice.

Markeil had taken to leaning against a wall, his eyes transfixed on some random part of the floor. "I do, from time to time. I remember how you shunned me and scorned me and shamed me for my dereliction of my people."

"Wait a minute-" she jumped in, but he silenced her.

"I am not going to denounce you for that; you were, of course, correct," he continued. "And I also remember how, the very next day, you had grown once more to trust me, to enjoy my company." He slapped his thighs and took a deep breath. "And that is, in part, what I am telling you now. You may leave, and I know that you would if you wanted to. But I am not going to keep you here."

A small, appreciative, nostalgic smile crept across her face, but a sudden knock at the door drew her out of her reverie. Markeil cleared his throat and pressed the commpanel. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I've got a little boy who's been asking for his mother for quite some time now," came the voice on the other side. Gina was stood by the door and so could hear relatively well, and she knew instantly that the voice belonged to Orelia.

Markeil signalled for the door to open, and bounding out of the aperture came Jack. He headed straight for Gina, who hunkered down and inquired about his adventures with the Hypnite woman. Yet, no matter how much she told herself not to scrutinise Markeil's dealings with Orelia, Gina was not successful.

"Thank you, Orelia," Markeil said to the woman with the glistening white skin. "I trust he hasn't been too mischievous?"

Orelia gave him a beautiful smile. "Not at all, but I think he might be a bit homesick." She turned to face Gina. "He took this toy with him, as I'm sure you know, but he lost it while we were outside. I don't know what it was – he called it a 'dinosaur', I think. I did go back to look for it but I had no luck."

Gina smiled. "Oh, don't worry about that. I'm sure that we can replicate a new one. Anyway, it was getting a bit tatty. But thank you for looking after him. He can be a handful, can't you Jack?" she said, looking back. "But he's been telling me all about your adventures, and it sounds like he enjoyed himself."

Orelia, waved to Jack, who did the same, and then she stepped outside. "I ought to be going now. I've got other duties to attend to. Good bye."

Gina smiled at her as she left, but, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something different in Markeil's demeanor. He caught her gaze and instantly prickled. But then he clapped his hands together, much to Jack's alarm, and glanced at the clock on the computer terminal. "Now, who would like some dinner?"


	4. Redemption

After dinner, Jack had started to look a bit sleepy. His eyelids kept closing and his head bobbed up and down on his chest. He murmured every now and then and woke up with a start. Gina looked over at him and sighed.

Markeil drummed his fingers on the table and looked at the sleepy child. "Your son is welcome to rest in one of the rooms here."

Gina gave him a thankful smile and then picked her son up in her arms.

He opened the main door and the familiar hallway was revealed again. Gina stared in wonder, as did Jack. The walls were a glimmering white and the floor was so polished that it looked like glass. Jack looked worriedly up at his mother when Markeil keyed in the command to open a door on the other side of the hallway; it seemed as though this would be his bedroom for the night.

Jack's concerns seemed to be sated when he saw the grandeur of the room – his own, private room. He grinned up at his mother, nearly squealing with joy. "Can we stay here forever?" he asked excitedly, running into the room.

"Calm down, Jack. You don't want to get yourself all worked up, do you?"

"But this is so cool!" he maintained, awe filling his eyes. "It's so big and shiny! And what's that?" His eyes had settled on something.

Markeil swiftly cleared his throat. "It's a replicator," he told Gina quietly. "I can have it deactivated, if you want."

"That would be an idea," she concurred. There was no telling what her mischievous son might get up to if he were left alone with a machine that could recreate anything that he wanted.

After Markeil had left, after Gina had thanked him, after Jack had quietened down, Gina sat down on the bed. Her son dutifully copied her. He sighed.

"Come on, let's get you under the the covers. You are tired, aren't you?"

Jack's little face screwed up in indignation. "I'm not tired."

Gina smiled. "Yes. Yes, you are."

The child conceded and was soon ready to sleep. "I want Spiny," he muttered, his eyes opening and closing.

Gina sighed and pulled the blankets over him. "Try not to think about it, Jack," she said softly, stroking his head. "I'm sure that Spiny's having a wonderful time."

"But I miss him," he continued to lament. "And I miss Daddy. I don't like it here. It's strange."

Gina sighed. "I know that you miss Daddy, but he's busy, isn't he, darling? And don't say that you don't like it here; that's a silly thing to say. You had a nice time with Orelia, didn't you?"

He conceded a small 'yes' and yawned.

"Maybe we can look for Spiny tomorrow," she suggested. "Would you like that?" By the time that she looked down for an answer, he had fallen asleep. She kissed him on the forehead then got to her feet, skulking quietly out of the room.

"He went straight to sleep," Gina told Markeil, as if he was truly interested in the matter, before standing by the window.

"That is good," came Markeil's monotonous reply. "I am glad that you accepted my invitation."

Gina glanced over at him; he was now stood beside her. "And I do believe I am glad that I accepted." She afforded him a little smile, but no matter how small it was, it would never be insignificant to him.

"I am sorry for having snapped at you earlier for inquiring about the maid, Orelia."

Gina simply shrugged. "Well, it was really none of my business. I shouldn't have asked anyway."

"But I know a great deal about what you have busied yourself with these past three years," he, nonetheless, continued. "You have married and had a child. That is a great deal."

Gina pursed her lips and turned around. She was no longer staring out of the large window, watching the shuttlecars speed past into points in the distance. She was now looking at him directly. "And it was my choice to tell you about all of that."

Markeil's lips twisted into a grim smile. "You are so very difficult, Gina." Seeing her somewhat offended look, he added, "I will tell you everything, then."

She cast him a look that said, You don't really need to, but he continued anyway.

Leaning against the window ledge, he spoke genially, "After you left and joined your ship, my planet and Thanatos entered into peace negotiations."

"And Captain Picard was finally able to arrive," Gina interjected, yet, despite the serious subject matter, she had adopted a light-hearted tone.

Markeil nodded swiftly. "The Captain oversaw our negotiations, lobbying, in fact, for both Hypnos and Thanatos to join the United Federation of Planets."

Gina could remember that; it had been a joyous day when Hypnos and Thanatos had been announced as candidates. Indeed, whenever there was the possibility of a Federation newcomer, most Starfleet employees felt charmed.

He continued. "Our president, Jevail, and Thanatos' president, Myklos, both resigned from their posts. I myself took up a position in the Hypnite Senate."

"You told me that," Gina conceded. "The day I left."

The day you left, he repeated in his head. "Anyway, my position was very prestigious. I was in charge of a team which oversaw the removal of corruption in my planet's government. I did meet your Captain once. He was a good man, and meeting him did remind me of how, perhaps, wrongly my people had acted." That phrase made Gina raise an eyebrow; Markeil's impression of Mr Darcy was indeed uncanny.

"It sounds like you did very well for yourself after I had gone."

"The two events are simply coincidences. I would rather have achieved much less had I been in your company." Then he sighed angrily; he had not wanted to say that, only think it. "And I did no better than you yourself."

"When I arrived here this morning, with Jack, and we stepped off of the transport, seeing the rebuilt Hypnos made me smile. It looked nothing like how I remembered it. I presume that similar rebuilding programmes have taken place on Thanatos?"

Markeil nodded. "Indeed. It seems that finally our two worlds' conflict is over. That we can start over again."

"You do realise that it won't be easy – at least, I don't think – for the Thanatosians to forgive your people quickly?" She thought of the Bajorans' hatred for the Cardassians, after the latter had spent fifty years enslaving and oppressing the former.

"Of course, I understand that the scars run deep. But both sides have lost family and friends and colleagues." He slapped his thighs with finality and took a deep breath. "You should be proud of your son. He is the spitting image of you." And his father, he couldn't help but think.

Gina rewarded his appraisal with a beautiful smile. "I am very proud of him." She fell silent, as did he. She saw his eyes wander over to the replicator and she wondered if he was about to get himself another drink. But he did not. He stayed put. "Markeil," she began again. "Do you miss your parents?"

He didn't look uneasy, and yet he didn't seem to welcome to question. "I had a mother and a father like every other person would, and they were very dear to me. But I was too young to understand what had really happened. All I knew back then was that they were wrongly taken from me. That some being much more powerful than I had snatched them away, that I was alone."

A tear sprang to her eye and she tasted salt. She wondered if she should comfort him.

"But that was a long time ago, and I have learned to cope with it. Just as I have learned to cope with the losses of many of my friends. I think that that was why I was so eager not to have you leave me. You would still be alive, not living with the eternal shades who comfort my parents, but you would be very far away."

She saw that he had looked away, that he did not wish for her to see his face. But in the reflection given off by the window, she could see he glistening tears, as if they were tiny stars, in the corners of his eyes. She instinctively held out her hand, the way that she might have done three years ago, and he took it, relishing the contact and the intimacy.

"I am over it now, though," he said bravely. "I barely think of them now. It is simply a fact of life. But you... you think of your parents often?"

Gina smiled wistfully. "Everyday." It had been especially awful for her, she recalled, when her husband's parents had come to visit their grandson. It had finally hit home then that her son would only have one set of grandparents. And yet she didn't know who to blame for it. It wasn't her parents' fault. Never. But could it be hers? Those thoughts rarely crossed her mind; she could not let them, for they would have destroyed her.

"Will you tell me about your life on the  _Enterprise?"_  he suddenly asked, the question somewhat catching her unawares.

She let loose a short laugh. "Why, are you finally going to consider my advice?"

"About joining Starfleet?" He snorted. "No, no. I am interested in what you might have to say."

"Well," she began uncertainly, flexing her hands on the window sill. "Things went back to normal pretty quickly after we left Hypnos' orbit and after the peace had been negotiated. Within a few days, I was back at my post, resuming my usual duties." She saw his intrigued expression, so continued. "I'd be in Engineering most of the time, usually with Geordi, that is, Commander La Forge. Other times, with... with Data."

"You have no need to speak quietly, for that is all in the past."

Of course it is, she mused ruefully. "Anyway, I'd be on the Bridge at other times, manning the Operations console, manipulating the ship's heading and speed. In my spare time, I didn't really get up to much. I enjoyed going to the Holodeck – you have them on your world, don't you?"

He smiled grimly. "We do. Sometimes, it is nice to escape reality, is it not?"

She afforded him a small nod. "I would also go to Ten Forward. It's sort of a bar-cum-restaurant type thing. All of the stuff sold there is replicated so it's nothing to rave about, but sometimes, it's good enough to make you think that you're home. That you're back on Earth." Without really knowing it, she glanced at the door behind which her son was sleeping.

He had followed her eyes. "And your son? Was he on the ship, also?"

She shook her head. "No, no, he couldn't have. I mean, the  _Enterprise_  does have facilities for that but I didn't see how I could wake him up in the morning, send him off to school, with him not knowing if I might return from an Away mission."

"He stays with his father, I take it?"

She nodded sadly and tears pricked her eyes. She looked away to wipe them away. "He does. He does."

"But now...?"

Gina sighed wistfully. "Jack wouldn't let me leave without him. Besides, Alex – uh, my husband – isn't on Earth at the moment."

"Oh?"

She couldn't lie to him, so she said plainly, "He's the Earth Ambassador to Vulcan."

"Impressive," he said, meaning it. The news was doubly important for him; firstly, he had had his own thoughts about becoming the Hypnite Ambassador to the Federation, and secondly, those hopes had been dashed, for he wasn't sure if he could be in the same environment as Gina's husband. "Right... well... it must have been a long day for you, and I'm sure you're weary for it."

"Are you trying to get rid of me, Markeil?" she inquired, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

He adopted a look of mock-indignance. "How could you ever think that?" He laughed and then sobered.

"I've got a room booked, but since Jack's already here..." she began, trailing off when she realised that she wasn't quite brave enough to finish her sentence.

"Well, what's the point in leaving if you're only going to come back in the morning?" he decided. "I've got no objections to you staying here."

I'm sure you don't, she thought, but it wasn't with malice. And so she stood up, sighed, gave him a grateful look. "You're certain?"

"I'm certain," he echoed. "There's space enough for you to share with your son."

"That would be fine," she agreed, before slipping through the doorway, and the door closed, and Markeil was left alone. Alone to think, to wonder, to hope. Perhaps, even to dream.


	5. A Hail

Morning came slowly. The dim light from the red dwarf sun began to gently stream in through the windows, reminding them that a new day was starting. Markeil grunted and hauled himself into a seated position – it wasn't much effort; it turned out that he'd been fallen asleep on the couch. And now his bones were paying the price for it. He groaned in discomfort as he rubbed his weary head and surveyed the room. His eyes clapped on the clock; it was barely even sunrise. He doubted if Gina and her son would be awake now.

Beside him, next to the couch and on the table, sat the vacant glass of liquor. It sat as if expectant, as if waiting for something. He picked it up, finished it off and returned it to its place in the food replicator. On the push of a button, it shimmered into nothingness.

He had told himself that he wouldn't read too far into it, that he wouldn't get too attached, yet, try as he might, it was hard.

He glanced around the room. Everywhere that he looked, his eyes were filled with wonders of great aesthetic measure. He saw gold-leaf and precious minerals, he saw grand windows which stretched the entire height of the room, he saw beautiful states in the guise of his powerful ancestors. He had made a very good life for himself; being a Senate-member certainly did pay well. And yet, as he surveyed his dominion, his domain, he couldn't help but wonder about what he was missing. About who he was missing.

It was an hour later when Gina opened her eyes, having been woken up by her son's persistent questions. "I don't know what time it is, Jack," she had murmured, rubbing her tired forehead. "I don't know when we'll go home." She sighed. "And you know that Daddy's busy now, don't you?"

Jack had harrumphed and curled up on the bed, evidently annoyed.

Gina pulled herself up into a seated position, ran her hands through her hair and stood slowly up. She glanced at the chronometer, and then at her son. "It's 1100 hours." She hadn't expected that she would sleep that well. Then again, it had been a late night.

"Can I find my dinosaur today?" Jack asked; she caught sight of his expectant face in the mirror.

She turned around and smiled at him. "I should think so. You'll have to ask Markeil, though."

Having washed and changed and applied a minimal amount of make up, Gina shepherded her son over to the door. It slid open and they stepped through, once more standing in the cavernous corridor.

Jack's interest was aroused by some sort of noise; Gina looked in the direction of the sound and saw that the perpetrators were a pair of Hypnite servants. It was then that she wondered just how many people Markeil had working for him. She wondered, also, exactly how far on the Hypnites had moved from their old ways.

"Go on, press it," Gina encouraged Jack, who was showing a considerable amount of interest in the commpanel.

The little boy pressed it and waited. He shied away at the last moment, and Gina smiled sympathetically at him. "You silly thing," she admonished lightly, before speaking into the panel herself. "Markeil, I'm sorry we're only calling round now, but it's just-"

She was interrupted by the door opening. Jack ran in, his mouth and eyes opening in awe, along with the customary "Wow" exclamation, at the sight in front of him.

"What-" Gina began again; this time, she cut herself short. She stared at Markeil, who was gesturing to a pair of open doors to the far side of his personal quarters; she had never noticed the aperture before. She chastised herself for never noticing the doors before; they were wondrously gilded in all sorts of precious stones and metals and were pure white. She found herself thinking of an Ancient Greek temple. But it was what was behind the doors that really got her attention, that really shocked her.

"You've done all of this... for us? For me?" she babbled as he waved her into the room. Jack had already run in.

Laid before her eyes was the most beautiful, most decorated of banquets that she had ever clapped eyes on. There were three chairs arranged symmetrically around a long, mahogany table. Cutlery was laid out as it would have been in a stately home of Old Earth. There were candles – replicated, she assumed – standing proudly at the center of the table. And then there was the food – mountains and mountains of it, a cornucopia of meats and fruits and savouries. Was she somehow looking at a Medieval meal for a king? She shook her head, almost disbelieving. And then she reminisced that it was not unlike the meal at the party that Markeil had taken her to those three years ago.

"This must have taken you ages," she breathed. "Jack, wait, please," she scalded her son, who had seen fit to snatching a bread roll from the table.

Markeil laughed and smiled at the boy. "Nonsense!" he said. "Eat what you wish." He glanced at Gina once Jack had settled himself down to eat and muttered a "Thank you."

"You didn't have to do all of this," Gina went on, not wishing to sound ungrateful.

Markeil gave her a wry look, and then he looked around the room. Sure enough, in each of the four corners stood a servant. "I didn't have much to do with it," he reasoned. "I simply gave the order for it. And I know what you're thinking," he added quickly. "That I'm going to a lot of effort when we are basically two friends catching up after a long time apart. Well, I just think that goes to show how we get along together."

Gina smiled nervously. "I suppose," she conceded. "I'm a bit under-dressed, though." She cast her eyes down at her simple clothes, wondering if perhaps a ball-gown would have been more suitable.

But Markeil shook his head. "Not at all. Now, the two of us must join your son for breakfast. The pair of you had nothing to eat last night, and you must be famished." Upon his signal, a servant came and held out Gina's chair for her and handed her her napkin; Markeil received the same treatment.

"And maybe, young man," Markeil announced, looking at Jack, who was tucking into some sort of fish that Gina presumed was a Hypnite delicacy. "Maybe we can find that toy of yours."

Gina raised an eyebrow; he had remembered. But any nice feeling that she might have felt at that moment was washed away when she heard something bleeping. She furrowed her brow in thought. What could it be? Markeil, too, seemed to have been aware of the interrupting noise.

Then she realised what it was. She slapped a hand to her forehead, stood up and excused herself. She ran into her and her son's room and dug around in the chest where she had tucked away their belongings. "Ah hah!" she exclaimed, drawing out her commbadge. She pressed it. "Lieutenant Monroe here, Sir." She should have been expecting some sort of contact from the  _Enterprise;_  after all, she had specifically taken her shore leave at that time because the Federation's flagship would be simultaneously patrolling the space near the Hypnos-Thanatosian system.

"Lieutenant?" came Geordi La Forge's slightly confused voice. "I've been hailing you for a while. I didn't think that you'd pick up, what with you being on leave. But I knew you'd be here and I gathered that you'd have your commbadge with you."

"I'm sorry, Commander," she apologised, rubbing her forehead. What was it now? "But I'd put my commbadge down. I know I shouldn't have done.

Geordi sighed, and on the other side of the line, smiled. "That's okay. I just wanted to let you know that we've detected some small tectonic disturbances on the planet."

"The planet?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Which planet?"

"Hypnos," he replied bluntly.

No matter how many times she echoed his words, it never truly sank in. "No... what do you mean?"

"It's probably nothing to worry about. In fact, I doubt even the Hypnites' own scientists have detected it yet. The discrepancies are really small. Minute, in fact. Perhaps it would put your mind at ease if you talked to Data? It's just, I know how close you two are."

There was his name again, Data. She pursed her lips. "Okay," she said quietly. In no time at all, the android's voice was apparent to her.

"Lieutenant Monroe?" Data inquired. Despite his being an android incapable of feeling, she wondered if she could detect an iota of concern in his voice.

"I've told you, you can call me Gina."

He acquiesed. "Gina."

"Well, Data?" she encouraged. "What's all this about a tectonic anomaly? Here on Hypnos? Surely it's nothing to be concerned about, right?"

Data was silent for a small while. "Geordi was correct to say so. However... that does not mean that this 'anomaly' as you called it does not have the potential to grow into a larger threat."

"How long have you and the crew known about this?"

"One day, four hours and three minutes," he replied simply. "If you would like a more exact reply-"

Gina held up her hand. "No, no, that's fine. Are you going to tell the Hypnite Science Commission?"

Data nodded. "Captain Picard has already done so, upon Starfleet's allowance, of course."

"But why tell me? Why not just broadcast this news to the entire planet? After all, it's so close to beinf accepted into the Federation. I don't understand."

"Because you are advised to vacate the planet. You and your son, that is. A Starfleet casualty on a planet with a troubled, war-torn history cannot be risked. It could ignite further conflict."

Despite herself, Gina couldn't help but slightly bristle at what she perceived to be a selfish remark. "I need to tell Markeil," she whispered to herself.

But the android's hearing did not let him down. "It is advised that you do not do so. The  _Enterprise_  is not able to transport you and your son up to the ship, but we can send a shuttle for you."

She shook her head and bit her lip. "No, no, no. I can't just up sticks and leave! I'm telling him, Data."

The android, back on the ship, cast a glance at Geordi, who was hearing the entire conversation in Engineering. Geordi mused for a while, staring absent-mindedly at the starship's warp coils. "Gina-"

But she had already hung up. She put the commbadge in her pocket and realised that her cheeks were wet. Wiping the tears away, sniffing and taking a deep breath, she returned to the dining hall, where she found her meal as she had left it, half-eaten. She gave Markeil a sorrowful glance, and he raised an eyebrow at her facial expression.

"Markeil, I need to talk to you," she said softly; out of the corner of her eye, she could see her son tucking into his food happily, blissfully unaware. And when she looked at him, her son, her boy, she had all sorts of horrible images come to her unbidden. She wasn't a plate tectonics expert, far from it, but she knew what the disruption of them would entail. Earthquakes, tsunamis, landslides, destruction on an unrivaled scale. Mother Nature really had no rival, even in this age of technology and space travel. She would see her son crushed under a mass of rubble as the building in which they were collapsed. She would see him swept away by the menacing currents of the Eastern Ocean. She would see him buried alive by a fast-moving, inexorable avalanche. No. She shook her head. No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't let it happen.

Markeil looked at a servant, who hopped over to Jack and attempted to entertain him for as long as necessary. Markeil then stood up from his chair, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and led Gina out of the room.

He looked at her, the pitiful sight that she was. There was the wetness of tears in her eyes, blurring the brilliant blue. Her eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. She was breathing terribly. She looked frightened. "Whatever you're about to tell me," he said softly, still not wanting to touch her for fear that it might ignite some other pain. "I already know."

She stared at him, looking almost indignant. "You know?!" she rasped.

He nodded his head slowly, firmly. "Yes. About the disturbance of the tectonic plates. I already know. I was made aware of it yesterday, while you were asleep."

"But... Why didn't you say anything? Why? My son's here... If anything happens to him, I'll-"

"You'll hold me personally responsible, I understand. And that is, some may argue, what I deserve. But listen to me for one minute and I will tell you everything."

She nodded.

"I have a friend who works in the Science Commission for our planet. He's not very high-up but he's getting there. You know him. Nilal, his name is." He paused. "It's natural for a planet – especially one as old as mine – to have these disturbances. I'm sure that your own Earth has had its own cases of continental drifts and the like."

She nodded, her mind still rather focused on the mention of Nilal. She shook herself from her reverie. "But not anymore. For hundreds of years now, we've had atmospheric and tectonic control systems. They predict and subdue such events. We don't have to just let them happen."

Markeil smiled. "I had expected as much, the science-driven people that you Federation-dwellers are," he said, not disparagingly. "But my planet has no such thing. All of those things that we took, harvested, stole, from Thanatos, and we cannot protect ourselves from Mother Nature." He laughed bitterly.

"I knew Geordi wasn't being entirely truthful. Data, no, he couldn't. And he didn't," she muttered.  _That does not mean that this 'anomaly' as you called it does not have the potential to grow into a larger threat,_ the android had said. It was then that those hysterical thoughts of hers returned, of her injured and dying son, of a future that she would not have herself see. She looked down at her hands to see them shaking, and she realised that, once again, she was not breathing so well.

Markeil had watched her suffer for long enough, and he would take it no more. And so he held out his arms, gathered her into them, and held her tight. He told himself that he would have to let her go eventually. "Will you listen to me again?" he asked gently.

She nodded. She did not speak.

"If this was anything serious, then I – as a member of the Senate – would have been told of its severity. We have evacuation procedures, and those protocols would have been adhered to. But, as none of that has happened, we can assume that this disturbance it passing. We may feel a few small tremors, but that is all that it will be."

She wanted to agree with him, to concede that it would all be all right. But she had a family to think about. Her husband would be told that his wife and son had met their ends on an alien world. He would know that she had died – and had taken their son with her – to visit her former lover.

_For all of your claims to know the human race, to know our history, you must have ignored the events of 79AD in Pompeii. For years, the Romans had heard strange noises coming from the hill in the distance, the fateful hill that would lead the Latin language to coin the term 'volcano'. For years, they felt tremors and shakes in the ground. The gods were angry, people said. But it was not so. And for their ignorance, they paid the ultimate price. They were too late to even realise what was happening when the pyroclastic flows and great plumes of smoke hit them. They were too late to be saved._

"Pompeii," she murmured, pulling out of his embrace.

"What?"

"Pompeii."

"Here," he said. I'll put your mind at rest. He reached over to the computer terminal, keyed a few things in and waited for the screen to load. It was a live-feed of Hypnos' tectonic plates. Gina could have likened the readings to an Earth seismograph's. There were tiny inconsistencies, just small bumps, in the readings. Nothing to be alarmed about.

"Nothing to be alarmed about," he proclaimed, as if reading her thoughts. "But if it puts your mind at ease, you and your son can be placed on a transport to a Starfleet base, whereupon you can disembark for your ship, I'm sure."

The  _Enterprise._  "But what about you?" she found herself asking.

"Don't worry about me. As I said – as you yourself have conceded – there is nothing to worry about. I'll have the servants pack up your things, and the two of you can leave as soon as is convenient for you."


	6. Duty

**One month later...**

The  _USS Enterprise_  was a Galaxy-Class starship, capable of transporting hundreds of people through the stars. It had 1,014 individuals aboard it, from Vulcan to Klingon and Bolian to Betazoid. It was home to many people, and it was also home to Lieutenant Gina Monroe. She would say that to herself every so often. Lieutenant Gina Monroe. It still sounded strange; she would never be an ensign again.

A month after her visit to the Hypnite homeworld, Gina was sat in Engineering, her usual post, her eyes supposedly fixed on the display consoles in front of her. But the view outside was too tempting, too exciting, too real. As she looked at one star in particular, a tiny ball of hot gas shimmering away in the distance, she consulted her computer and asked what planetary system that star was host to. She didn't even need to ask. She knew what it was, what it had been, what it had been to her.

The computer beeped at her then; she was caught unawares. She moved her arm in a quick movement, and her tricorder slid off of her lap, hitting the floor with a clang. She swore under her breath and reminded herself to remain calm. Seeing that star, knowing what it was, knowing about the two M-Class planets circling around it, had clearly gotten to her head. Picking up her tricorder, she dusted it off and found that it was not working. She sighed. As if things couldn't get any worse.

"Commander La Forge?" she inquired, craning her brunette head from her seat so that she could get a better view

Behind the warp core, a yellow blur emerged.

She smiled. "Sir, my tricorder's malfunctioning. It wouldn't be so bad, only the computer terminal's being funny, too."

La Forge rubbed his chin in thought. "Oh, those things are usually quite robust. What did you do to it?"

She blushed. "I, uh, dropped it. Well, it fell from my lap."

Geordi simply shook his head and waved a nonchalant hand. "Don't worry about it. Look, you're due for a break now, right?" He glanced down at his padd and nodded. "In fact, you should've clocked off ten minutes ago. You must really like it here, right?"

She laughed quietly. "How could I not?"

"Well, why don't you take your tricorder down to Data? He's in Ten Forward now, I believe."

She frowned. Data in Ten Forward? Why on earth would he be down there? Seeing that Geordi probably felt the same way as her, she nodded and stood up. "Thanks, Commander."

With that, she collected her damaged tricorder, cradling it in her arms as if it were a delicate child. She signed out of Engineering, wondering to herself why exactly she had managed to over-stay her shift. But, then again, she probably knew why... She cleared her throat and found herself in the  _Enterprise's_  cavernous corridors. She saw Commander Riker on the way, and acknowledged him respectfully, bowing her head. As she went down the corridors, she saw a number of friendly faces, a number of people whom she would have loved to have a proper chat with.

The sound of a baby crying came to her ears. She felt somewhat drawn to it – motherly instinct - curiosity urging her to feel concern for the distressed child. She followed the sound, but was relieved when she saw that the cries were coming from the nursery. The child's shrill screams filled most of the corridor, and Gina noted the pained expressions of other crew members as they walked past. But she didn't feel pained or annoyed.

After a short trip in the turbolift – for Engineering was on deck 36 and Ten Forward was, as the name suggests, 26 floors above that – she came to her destination. Lieutenant Smithson greeted her as she came into Ten Forward, and in the distance, she saw the friendly smile of the ship's resident bar manager, Guinan.

"Hey," Smithson said.

Gina didn't hear him.

"You alright, Gina?" Smithson asked, his eyes narrowing at her.

Gina quickly smiled, caught unawares. "Me? Oh, I'm fine. I didn't hear you, sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he said simply, quelled. He smiled at her for quite a long time. "What are you carrying? Not an animal, is it?" He wondered if perhaps it was a baby Targ; he'd always had a soft spot for them.

She laughed quietly. "No, no. It's a tricorder. My tricorder. I dropped it. Well, it fell off of my lap. Commander La Forge told me that I'd overstayed my welcome in Engineering, and to come here to see if Commander Data could fix it for me."

"Surely it would be easier to just replicate a new one?" Smithson suggested, and Gina completely understood his reasoning.

"You're right, I know. And I'm sure Geordi knows that, too."

"Then, why-?"

She shrugged. "Anyway, we're holding up the door here. Maybe I'll catch you later?"

He smiled at her then, a kind, soft smile, a smile that meant something. "Yeah, see you." He gave her a mock salute and she smiled.

Guinan was another person to enquire about the fate of her tricorder, and once Gina had revealed all, she ordered a glass of synethol. It was then that she caught sight of Data. He was sat alone on one of the couches next to the window.

The streaking starlight guided her as she went over to him. "Hi, Data," she greeted him. Before he could reply, she quickly added, "I mean, Commander Data."

Data looked at her and cocked his head to the side, as he always did. "I do believe it is customary for people to be on first-name terms with one another after they have known each other for a set period of time, and after they have endured extraordinary events together."

Gina smiled nervously and laughed a little. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Could I sit down?"

"Of course," he said with a nod, gesturing to the seat beside him.

She took it and then placed the tricorder on the table. "Commander La Forge suggested that I take this to you; it's broken, see."

Data picked up the small grey cuboid device in his pale hands, weighing it and holding it up to his eyes. "Ah, yes, it seems that some of the internal components have come loose."

"But you can fix it?"

"I can fix it." A pause. "It is nonsensical that this device is repaired when it would be more efficient to replicate a second one."

Gina rubbed the back of her neck. "I think, perhaps, Geordi told me to get it fixed on purpose."

Data raised an eyebrow.

"I mean..." she began, biting her lip and looking away when she started to wonder if she was making no sense. "Nah... I'm just being stupid."

"I do not see what a low degree of intelligence has to do with this," he said honestly.

"Well... today's the fourth anniversary of... of your daughter's death." She pursed her lips and paused. "Commander La Forge... well, I guess he just worries about you. I mean, I know you're an android and you'll say that you can't feel anything. That you can't feel grief or sorrow or regret. But I know you Data. We've been through a lot together. And, as Lal... died four years ago today, I think Geordi's just concerned about you. He said that he'd tried to talk with you about it. I guess he didn't have much success, and that's why he suggested that I come here. Data, I know we serve on the same ship and everything, but I rarely see you. I'd like to spend more time with you."

Data made an "Ah" noise. "I am beginning to comprehend. I understand why Geordi would feel concerned for my well-being. After all, loss is a significant experience for the human psyche. But Lal did not die, as such. She never was alive and so she never lost that life. I recognise her absence when I am in my quarters, but I do not miss her, because I cannot."

Tears sprang to her eyes and she made a hasty attempt to brush them away.

Data cocked his head; he looked confused. "Have I upset you?"

"No, no, it's fine." It wasn't.

"It was not my intention to cause distress."

Gina smiled genially. "I'm just thinking... thinking of Jack."

Data nodded, apparently understanding now. "Was it inconsiderate of me to talk to such an extent about my own offspring? Should I have afforded you some time?"

Gina shook her head, dabbing at what was left of the tears. "No, not at all. It's just difficult, because he's so far away." Unwittingly, she found herself glancing out of the nearby window.

The android made a noise of understanding. "I presume that your son is, at present, on Earth?"

She looked out at the not-so-distant stars and nodded. "When I told Alex what happened, he insisted on boarding a shuttle himself to collect him. They're at home now." She thought of her husband. She missed him. She longed for his company. She spread her hands on the table. "Anyway, what can you do for the tricorder?"

Data seemed surprised that she had changed the subject, but he did not pick her up on it. "If my diagnosis is correct, then it should be repaired in one hour, seventeen minutes and eight seconds."

She laughed at his preciseness. "Well, I don't want to keep you. Thanks for looking at the tricorder; I'll let Commander La Forge know. I'll see you around, Data." She stood up and left Ten Forward. The doors whooshed shut behind her, and she stepped into the carpeted corridor. She checked an Okudogram and saw that she still had two hours left before she had another shift, so she made straight for her quarters. She soon flopped down on the couch and closed her eyes.


	7. Family

But she had slept – slept not being the best word – for five minutes when an unwelcome noise met her ears. She groaned and heaved herself to her feet, dragging herself to the door. She pressed the commpanel and it bleeped. On the other side, a voice announced, "Gina."

Her heart leapt; it could have jumped right from her mouth. She gasped, turned around, glanced in the mirror. Her hair was a bit awry and her make-up was looking a little worse-for-wear. But she suddenly found that she didn't care. She keyed in the 'open' command to the door without even thinking. The door slid open and there he was, standing on the other side.

"Alex!" she squealed, as if she were a delighted child. He held open his arms wide and she clambered into his embrace. He lent down and kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips.

"I take it you've missed me?" he asked, a mischevious smile playing on his mouth.

She hit him playfully and rolled her eyes. "Of course I've missed you! Come in, come in. Here, sit down, and I'll get you something to drink."

It was then that she saw what he was holding. He proffered out the bunch of flowers. "I got these from the starbase."

"Aw, you didn't need to do that. So many light-years."

"If I had been in another galaxy, I would still have brought them."

She smiled wryly at him then and had the replicator make her a vase for the flowers. They were tall and had red stems, and the petals were bright pink.

"You know," he began as he reclined on the couch. "Jack wanted to come, too. He clung to me like a limpet, but I didn't think it good to have him travelling all that way. I think he was just confused. I mean, he's still so young. Going to Hypnos and then to the starbase and then back to Earth."

She felt her heart grow warm at the mention of her son. "But he was okay when you left him?" Nervously, she twiddled a strand of hair between her fingers.

"Oh, yes," he replied. "Eventually. My parents are looking after him."

"How long will you be here for?" She knew that if she asked that question, she would only be counting down the days until he was gone, until she would be alone again.

He shrugged. "Not long enough. Now, come here. I want to kiss my beautiful wife. And, have I ever told you what I think of that uniform?"

She folded her arms and pouted. "Yes, you have. And I don't think you need to repeat it." But she had missed him so much and she had been away from him for so long that she couldn't stop herself from going over to him, crouching on the floor as he sat on the couch. "You do know I'm on a break, don't you?"

He grinned and nodded, reaching for her, but she held up a restricting hand.

"And that break will be over in a few hours," she said.

"Have you never been late to a shift?"

****

Gina awoke slowly, gently, but as she sat up, it was with a start. It was dark outside, as it always was on a spaceship. The bright stars were an assault on her eyes. Her eyes narrowed in on the clock on the table, and she groaned. "Oh, no..." she moaned once the numbers displayed on the screen struck home with her.

Beside her, her husband stirred. He attempted to gather her to him, but she got out of the bed and got changed hurriedly. "How is that even possible?" she lamented. "I'm over an hour late. Oh, shit... Commander La Forge will kill me!"

"I'm sure he'll be very understanding if you simply tell him that you were spending some time with your husband," Alex muttered, his voice rather muffled against the pillow.

Gina raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, you've got a life outside of Starfleet, right?"

She huffed. He was right. It was true. She did have more to her life. But she had chosen to be in Starfleet, and that choice separated her from her family. That choice had also exposed her to a great deal of dangers and threats and perils, the worst of which had occured three years ago... No. No, not the worst.

"Yes, I do," she conceded. But then her expression hardened. "But I chose to be in Starfleet. Alex, you'll be here when I get back, won't you?"

He frowned, watching as she finished pulling on her uniform. And then he smiled. "Sure. Just don't be too long."

"And don't you go exploring on the ship."

He looked a bit indignant, so she elaborated for him. "See, civilians aren't allowed to. They, uh, tend to get in the way a bit."

"I'm hardly a civilian, am I?" he said pointedly. "I'm Earth's Ambassador to Vulcan!"

Gina rubbed her forehead and smiled. Then she kissed him on the forehead and made for the door. "Yes, but you're not on duty."

"You're late, Lieutenant."

Gina followed the origin of the sound and gave a sheepish smile, as well as a quiet "Sorry, Sir", by way of an apology.

"Nah," La Forge said dismissively. "I think doing overtime on your earlier shift – whether it was knowingly or not – more than makes up for being late this time." He smiled, and she returned the gesture.

"Thanks, Commander," she said gratefully. "I'm guessing I'm to analyse the output of the warp manifolds and then take up position at the console?"

Commander La Forge made a face of contemplation. "Not exactly."

She raised an eyebrow and then frowned. "Sir? I don't really follow." She glanced over at one of her comrades, who looked equally perplexed. Beside him, another engineer looked just as confused.

Geordi pursed his lips in thought, rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "Ah well... The Captain's cleared me to tell you, so I may as well." He himself had been told in the staff meeting in the conference room in the early hours of the morning, and now it was his responsibility to pass on the message.

Gina still looked very confused, and she still was very confused.

"Okay then, guys," Geordi continued, with a clap of his hands. "I want everyone here listening." And, once he had spoken, padds were put down, chair were turned in his direction and tricorders stopped scanning. "We've had a distress signal from a nearby planet. Now, the planet isn't too far. In fact, it's just... there," he added, pointing out of the window. It was a silly thing to do, of course, as there was no accurate way of physically pointing out the exact star in question.

But Gina had a feeling that she knew which star and planet Geordi was intent on pointing out. She shook her head in disbelief; it seemed that her talk of Pompeii had been correct.

Geordi cleared his throat to regain her attention. "Turns out, there's been a massive seismic shift on the planet's surface, and it's resulted in volcanic activity, tsunamis and widespread devastation."

"Which planet is it, Sir?" a zealous engineer inquired. He had been drumming his fingers on his computer console.

Geordi looked down at him. "Hypnos, the only planet in the system other than its twin Thanatos to be M-Class. But if we don't get out there soon, it won't be M-Class for too long."

"Excuse me, Commander," Gina piped up. "When did the disaster happen?"

La Forge pinched his nose. "Ah... about ten hours ago." Registering the looks of shock on the crew members' faces, he explained further. "I know what you're all thinking: If it happened ten hours ago, why the heck are we still up here? Why aren't we down there helping them? Well, there's one simple answer to those questions. Put simply, Hypnos still isn't a part of the Federation and so we're under no obligation to help them. As such, they don't even want Federation help. It's taken these nine or ten hours to sort out some sort of negotiation with the Hypnite people."

"Commander, what about the planet Thanatos? Are they sending aid or something?" Gina asked. She had many other questions ready to ask.

Geordi looked at her for a long while. "No... they are not." He sighed.

She sighed and shook her head. No doubt old wounds are being opened.

"Look, Lieutenant," he sad quietly to her alone. "I know that this planet means something to you. And I also know that you hung up on me when I hailed you last month while you were on Hypnos. So I don't want you getting too involved."

When La Forge had elaborated more about the disaster on Hypnos, the crew members were each given their respective tasks in response to the crisis. Gina managed to catch up with La Forge as he was exiting Engineering.

Before the door could close behind him, Geordi felt a hand on his arm. He looked behind and saw Gina looking at him. "Lieutenant Monroe, what are you doing?"

Gina caught her breath. "I'm sorry, Commander. I know that you've already given us our tasks, but you must realise that negotiations probably aren't going to work. I mean, we've known about this for a while," she added quietly. "There must have been some sort of plan or system in place?"

Behind his visor, he frowned.

"Please, listen. What I mean is that they've obviously been going on for hours. And..." She quietened when someone walked past. "And, I know what the Hypnite people are like. I've been to that planet and I've met its people. They're proud and loyal only to their own. They won't want us interfering, even if their lives depend on it."

Geordi nodded. "I understand your meaing, Lieutenant, and I know that you only mean well. But, I don't see what else we can do. You'll have to take it up with the Captain."

And so that was what she did. She sped down the corridors, almost tripping up and walking into people, coming to a stop at a turbolift. She bent down and caught her breath; the ship definitely was huge, and with that size came lengthy corridors. She ordered that the turbolift take her to the bridge, only to realise that she did not have bridge clearance that day. Under her breath, she cursed herself.

The computer beeped at her, waiting for her instruction. Without the ability to enter the bridge, she resorted to stepping out of the turbolift, with a heavy sigh.

 _What am I going to do now? I can't speak to the Captain now; he's on he bridge! I'll have to wait until he's left the bridge and is in his quarters. But how long will that take? And I can't access the crew manifests._  She shook her head and looked around herself, as if that might help. But then she caught sight of a black and blue blur. Squinting, she realised what it was.

"Counsellor Troi!" she called down the corridor, and Deanna Troi turned her head, momentarily confused about who had called her name.

"Counsellor!" she called once more, before she had gotten the counsellor's full attention.

"Lieutenant," Troi acknowledged her; she raised an eyebrow. "Oh, Lieutenant Monroe, isn't it?"

Gina nodded sheepishly. "Yes, Commander."

"What is wrong? You seem preoccupied."

"Well... you know the disaster on Hypnos...?"

Troi looked grave. She nodded. "Yes. I believe that the Captain is doing everything in his power to help the situation."

Gina rubbed the back of her neck and bit her lip, thinking. "I'm sure of that, too, Counsellor. But I was wondering if I would be able to speak to Captain Picard directly."

Deanna Troi seemed to assess the situation. "I see. And you wish for me to speak to the Captain on your behalf?"

Gina suddenly became aware that they were conversing in the middle of a corridor. She glanced out at the stars; she could've sworn that she saw the little red dwarf twinkling in the distance. "You see... I've had dealings with the Hypnite people. I know that other people on the ship have met with Hypnites, too. But you know how... how close I got to those people. I believe that I know how their minds work, how they think, how they act. That's why I think that it would be worthwhile for me to talk formally with Captain Picard. I believe that I can help."

Deanna nodded slowly, taking in her argument. "And I agree with you, Lieutenant. You've proved yourself to be extremely capable, able to respond to tricky and even dangerous situations, just as a member of Starfleet should."

"So, you'll speak with the Captain?"

Troi smiled, her black eyes glittering. "Yes, I'll speak with him. You'll likely get a summons to his ready room."

"Thank you, Counsellor," Gina said wholeheartedly.


	8. Collateral

**A/N: Since this is set around the end of series 7, O'Brien doesn't appear. He's a wonderful character but it wouldn't make sense to include him when he's supposed to be on DS9. Instead, he's been replaced at the transporter console by a character who is definitely not named after one of my favourite** **_Doctor Who_ ** **characters *nervous laughter***

Gina cleared her throat. The door slid open upon the Captain's command. It slid closed once she had stepped inside the room, inside the Captain's ready room. She glanced to one side, where she could see the stars twinkling all around them, and to the other side, where a fish was circling happily in its tank.

Picard followed her line of sight and smiled slightly. "You are admiring Livingstone?"

She was caught unawares, but almost as soon as she had jumped, she had composed herself. "Oh, yes, I was. Livingstone. I'm guessing that he's named for the explorer?"

The Captain smiled again. "Indeed he is. Now." He spread his hands on the desk, then steepled them, gesturing eventually for her to sit down.

She took a seat opposite him, sinking down into the chair.

"What have you come to see me for? Counsellor Troi did shed some light, but that was about it."

"Well, Sir," she began. "It's about the disaster on the planet Hypnos."

Picard pursed his lips. He did not say anything but gestured for her to continue, inclining his head curtly and waving a hand.

She cleared her throat. "Three years ago, you yourself disappeared en route to a peace conference on Charon. When you didn't return and when we received news that you had been taken hostage on Hypnos, Commander Data and myself were chosen to rescue you and find out the truth. When radiation sickness afflicted our crew, Doctor Crusher carried out medical tests on two victims of the war; one victim was Hypnite, the other was a Thanatosian. She found out that the two species are really the same.."

Captain Picard nodded. He looked both confused and irritated. For, he knew what had transpired, as he had been filled in by Commander Riker and other crew members. Though he had spent the majority of the time in question in captivity, he had nevertheless been told what had transpired. He wasn't sure why this Lieutenant was stating the obvious, why she was telling him what he already knew.

"I'm sorry, Captain," she said quickly. "I know that you know all of that. But the real basis for my argument is what I'm about to tell you." She took a breath. "I'm not sure exactly how much you were told, but the shuttlecraft in which Data and I were travelling was shot down. We escaped the wreckage but were captured by Hypnite soldiers. I imagine that we were kept in conditions similar to those in which you yourself were kept."

Picard shifted in his seat. Gina had never seen him look so uncomfortable.

She continued. "While Data was kept in that Hell-hole-" she broke off, suddenly aware that she was, in fact, speaking to the Captain, and that she had better watch her language. "Sorry, Sir. What I mean is, while Data was kept in prison, I was not." She looked away. "See, the Hypnites used to trade with the Cardassians, and they have this... this policy, I suppose you could call it, whereby the commanders take comfort women."

Again, the Captain looked uncomfortable.

"I apologise, Sir, but please don't tell me to stop talking. I'm not upsetting myself. I need to tell you this. Anyway, I was, uh, placed under the care of the governor. He was called Markeil. He wasn't what I was expecting; he was kind and generous and he did look after me. Don't ever think that he ill-treated me. But he was also extremely proud. One might say arrogant. His people are incredibly patriotic, almost to the point of xenophobia. Commander La Forge told us in Engineering earlier today that you had attempted negotiations with the Hypnite government."

Picard nodded. "So that the relief efforts might be improved."

She returned his nod. "Yes, but the Hypnites will never accept Federation aid. Never. They probably blame us somewhat for the disintegration of their Empire."

"That is understandable, but have they forgotten what terrible treatment they subjected the Thanatosians – their own kin – to?"

Gina paused to think. It was true. It was more than true.

Picard sighed and rubbed his bald head. "What do you suggest then? If they don't – if they won't – cooperate?"

"Well, we can't force them, as that might risk a war."

Picard agreed. The war with the Cardassians was still fresh in everyone's mind and they could hardly afford to start up a new conflict.

"So, I suggest that-" she broke off again. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

He nodded.

"I suggest that I go to Hypnos. I know their people, and General Markeil is still there, as far as I know. His position is very senior, and I'm sure – well, I hope – that if I can speak to him, then maybe I can persuade him to sway his government's mind. He has contacts. He's well-acquainted with a member of their Science Commission. They'll accept our help, and maybe we'll be able to fulfil the terms of that peace treaty that we signed all of those years ago."

Picard nodded. "That does make sense," he conceded, rubbing his chin. He cast his gaze over to his computer and typed in an order relevant for the key staff. "Lieutenant, will you follow me to the conference room?"

****

Sat around the table were Commander Riker, Counsellor Troi, Doctor Crusher, Lieutenant Worf, Lieutenant Commander La Forge and Lieutenant Commander Data. The commander was having a private discussion with Deanna; Beverly Crusher was trying to persuade the Klingon that the Hypnites were not too dishonourable as to not deserve help; and the two engineers were wondering where the occupants of the two vacant chairs were.

The door slid open, and Captain Picard and Lieutenant Monroe appeared behind it.

"Apologies," Picard said, having gestured for his obligingly-standing crew to be seated.

Gina nervously settled into her seat beside Data.

"Now, I have called you all here for a reason which I'm sure you can all guess at," the captain began solemnly. "The disaster on Hypnos is showing no signs of abating, and the Federation has given us the go-ahead for intervention."

"But haven't the Hypnites expressly said that they don't want our help?" Commander Riker input. "I mean, we can't exactly force them."

"The Hypnites cannot be trusted. Therefore, to intervene would be fruitless," Worf added.

Deanna looked at Riker, and then nodded at Gina. He followed her line of sight and found the young lieutenant.

"Lieutenant Monroe here has offered up her expertise of the planet, to help in our efforts," Captain Picard explained. He looked at Gina, and his expression told her that she could speak.

"I don't know exactly what you all understand of my time on Hypnos. But you must know that my knowledge of the planet and its people outweighs any of yours," she began carefully. "I've suggested to Captain Picard that I beam down to Hypnos and attempt to persuade their leaders to welcome Federation aid."

"That sounds very sensible," Doctor Crusher said encouragingly. The doctor had not been looking forward to learning of the massive prospective death toll from the natural distasters on the world.

"And Hypnos is under Federation law now," La Forge added.

Gina nodded. "I am still in communication with Markeil... that is, General Markeil... and he has some contacts high up in the Science Commission. He himself is, as I'm sure you're aware, a senator. I believe that I can get them to see sense, to see that their people don't need to die. I propose that I go to the Senate and that I talk to them."

"But you cannot go alone," came Worf's baritone voice.

"Captain?" Gina looked across the table at him. She was not against the idea of her going alone; after all, she knew her way around and she had the contact details of Markeil and Nilal. But she told herself that she was being stupid. The planet was in the middle of experiencing seismic and tectonic destruction. She couldn't simply walk around the planet as if she were on holiday.

Picard cleared his throat. "Mr Worf, Commander Data and Doctor Crusher," he decided, picking them out one-by-one. "You will form the away team, along with Lieutenant Monroe. You are to report to transporter room two at 1600 hours for a prompt beam-down to Hypnos' surface. Transporter Chief McCrimmon's coordinates should mean that you appear in the Eastern Continent's biggest city, and from there, you will visit the Senate House. It will be dangerous, as are most of our tasks, but this one especially so. I trust in the ability of each one of you."

And so they filed out of the room, the captain being the first to leave, after a cursory glance at Gina. She returned to her quarters, where she found her husband sat at the computer terminal, sipping at a glass of something which looked suspiciously like Romulan Ale. He looked over the top of the computer monitor when he saw the entrance door slide open to reveal his wife.

"You took your time," he said, his tone of voice betraying mock-indignance.

She sighed. The glass of pseudo-Romulan Ale looked very enticing. "I know. I'm sorry." She felt a tear slip down her cheek.

He got to his feet and shushed her. "Hey, I'm not angry. What's wrong? What is it?"

She wouldn't lie to him; he would find out sooner or later. "What's the time?"

He seemed a little taken aback by the question but answered it nonetheless. "Uh... 1540."

She looked up at his face, wondering if it might be the last time that she saw him. She desperately tried to memorise his features, his golden hair, his bright eyes, his intelligent visage, and she reminded herself why she had married him, why she loved him.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," he told her, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Look, I'm sure you'll feel better if you just tell me."

"You've heard about the problems on Hypnos?"

He did his best – for her sake – to disguise his bristling at the mention of that place. "Yes."

"Well... the Captain's put together an away team. And, well, I said that I'd go down there-"

"Down where? To the planet? Are you mad?" He started to step away, his head in his hands.

"No, listen to me," she said, pulling him back by the sleeve. "I said that I'd go down there to speak with... to speak with the leaders. With Markeil."

"Oh, will I never hear the end of it? Will there ever be a time when his name doesn't crop up?" he said bitterly. But he calmed down, as he always did. If his wife was going to transport down to the planet's surface, he didn't want to be the cause of the sadness in what might be their last moments. "I didn't mean that. What time will you leave?"

"About fifteen minutes," she said despondently. "But I should really be at the transporter room before then."

"Do you want me to come with you? To the transporter room?"

"No," she decided. "That will just make it harder. I don't know how long I'll be, but please, tell Jack-"

"I know, I know," he said softly, gently.

She looked at him, into his eyes, and kissed him, the kiss one of solemn passion. "I love you, I really do."

"And I love you, too."

She went over to the door and looked over her shoulder when he announced, "You'd better be back soon, though, because there won't be much left of this Romulan Ale."

She smiled at him then turned on her heel and went out of the door, through the corridors, into the turbolift, and requested transporter room two. She stepped out into another equally sparse corridor, took a deep breath and entered the transporter room. There, she saw Charles McCrimmon standing dutifully behind the console, his fingers poised ready to key in the appropriate commands. On the transporter pads were the other members of the away team. The captain's loud, authoritative presence was hard to ignore.

"Ah, Lieutenant," Picard acknowledged, giving her a once-over. "Just in time."

"I'm sorry, Sir..." she began, but his smile told her not to worry. So she stepped onto her allocated pad, whereupon she was handed a phaser and a tricorder by Lieutenant Worf.

"You all know that I have faith in you," Picard began, his hands behind his back. "This will be a dangerous exercise, but each one of you is more than prepared to undertake this. When you have beamed down, you will separate into two teams; it is up to Commander Data to decide who is with who. One team will investigate the Senate, and the other will investigate the effects of the devastation. I am aware that the Eastern Continent has not been that badly hit, but there have been a few small catastrophic tremors. However, I am quite sure that you are all away of the gravity of this situation."

"Aye, Captain," they chorused, but Crusher's wavered a little. She gave the captain a questioning look. "Jean-Luc, I'm not entirely sure... well, that this is the right course of action."

"You're having doubts?" Picard quizzed.

Doctor Crusher shook her head and fingered her utility belt. "No, it's not that. My reason is this: we could risk another conflict, on top of this natural disaster."

"But that's where I come in," Gina input. "Don't you see? I'll speak to the Senate, to the powers that be, and I'll tell them our side of the story."

"I couldn't have put it better myself," Picard agreed. "Now, then, I have some matters to attend to on the Bridge. Good luck."

With that, he swept out of the transporter room and McCrimmon looked to Data. Data said the order. "Energise."

McCrimmon's agreement of "Energising" was the last thing that Gina heard before she was returned to the planet below.


	9. Away Team

The four Federation figures shimmered into existence, as Picard had promised, right in the centre of Hypnos' Eastern Continent's largest city. Gina recognised the scenery as soon as the transporter beam had faded from sight; in fact, even through the sparkle of the beam, she could make out the unmistakeable scene before her.

"It's not what I was especting," Crusher announced, taking it all in. She saw the battered ruins in the distance, where the northern parts of the city were still very much in disrepair, where the rennovation had not yet reached. And she also saw the shiny, newly-built building complexes. The stark contrast made her uneasy.

"I agree," Worf conceded in his usual gruff tones. "Thankfully, though, the city seems to have avoided the worst of the seismic disturbances."

"For now," Gina muttered.

"The captain has ordered that we split into two groups, each consisting of two crewmembers," came Data's bland voice. "I suggest that Lieutenant Monroe and I work together, for we know the culture relatively well. We are probably the better choice as regards speaking with the Hypnite leaders."

"I guess you're with me, Worf," Crusher declared. The Klingon looked indifferent.

"Doctor Crusher," the android went on. "Your skills as a physician are near unparalleled. It would indeed be profitable if you were able to investigate some of the victims of the recent events. Lieutenant Worf, you are to accompany the doctor in case of... altercations."

Crusher looked a bit indignant, knowing that she was capable of looking after herself. But she knew that she would likely need the Klingon's help.

And so the teams went off on their separate ways to attend to their various tasks. Lieutenant Worf and Doctor Crusher walked for little more than a mile when the doctor's medical tricorder beeped at her excitedly. The Klingon frowned down at it. "What is it?" he asked.

Crusher drew the machine closer to her face and studied the readings. "It seems that we've found what we've been looking for."

"People?" Worf inquired.

"Yes. A person." Crusher kept glancing down at the machine. "About one hundred feet away... ninety... fifty... ten..."

Worf harrumphed. "They should be right here. Where are they?"

Crusher looked equally puzzled. She surveyed their surroundings; they had walked a few kilometers or so away from what must have been the wealthiest part of the neighborhood and into one of the rougher area. She could tell just by looking at the buildings here that they were not well-built, and the earthquakes had done much to destroy them anyway. Back where Gina and Data where, it was evident that the rich had the money and the means to knock down their old residences which were littered with wreckage and memories of the conflict with Thanatos. But here, no such thing happened.

Worf assumed that they were walking past a row of houses, but none of them looked fit for habitation. There were great chunks missing out of roofs where missiles had created holes, there were piles of wreckage lying loose in the streets, there were uprooted trees – their roots obviously weakened as a result of the geological disturbances – lining the way.

"Ah hah," Crusher muttered upon a satisfactory look at her tricorder readings.

But Worf had left her. He was already walking to the thing displayed on the tricorder. "Doctor," he called, rather urgently.

Crusher followed his voice and despaired at the sight. She never did forget a face, despite all of those hundreds of patients that she must have treated, especially when their story was as unique as was this person's.

"Doctor Crusher?" came the quiet enquiry.

"Yes, that's me. Don't talk right now," Crusher said calmly, too focused on her work to register that the strange alien man knew her name. She waved her tricorder over him. His once green skin was darkened and clouded over with a swathe of mud, his light hair covered in grime. "Worf, pass me that beam." The Klingon did so. "Broken right tibia. Dislocated collarbone. Fractured wrist. We need to make a splint."

With Worf holding one end of a piece of timber which must have fallen from a roof and her the other, the fixed it to the back of the injured man's leg. He groaned in pain and Crusher fished out a hypospray, which she injected into his arm. "There. That should quell the pain." She then retrieved her osteo-regenerator and waved it over his wrist. But then she frowned. "Dammit!" she cursed, flinging the offending device to one side.

"What is it?" Worf enquired, studying the wounded man.

"Looks like Geordi's tinkering hasn't worked. The radiation from this planet must have affected the bone regenerator."

The injured man looked grim. "Is there anything you can do?"

Crusher, despite everything, managed a smile. He didn't have an injured back or neck so she got Worf to get the man into a seated position. "I can ease the pain," she said. "And I can relocate your shoulder. It shouldn't be too much trouble with the painkillers."

The man nodded his consent and Crusher carried out the procedure. Sure enough, with the right amount of anaesthetic, the man didn't feel a thing.

"Do you know who I am?" the man asked of the doctor.

Her eyes widened and shw cast her mind back. "Yes... I believe I do... Kiras, isn't it?"

Worf cleared his throat. "But you are Thanatosian."

Kiras raised an eyebrow at the Klingon's not-so-astute observation.

Worf continued. "What are you doing here? On the planet of your oppressors?"

Kiras managed a laugh, though it made him ache a bit. "I've got nothing left on Thanatos. My homeworld was destroyed. I couldn't afford to get home even if I wanted to. I've been here ever since."

Crusher wracked her brains. "But surely you returned to Thanatos after the  _Enterprise_  picked you up?"

Again, Kiras laughed bitterly. "Oh, I did. Of course I went home to see my family, but they'd all gone. They'd all died. So I came here, to Hypnos."

"To seek revenge?" Worf inquired.

Kiras looked at the security officer and said nothing.

Crusher shook her head. Revenge. But right now, she had other things to think about, more important things. "What happened to you?"

"My injury?" Kiras inquired. Upon the doctor's nod, he sighed and rubbed his injured leg. "I wasn't asking for trouble if that's what you think." He paused. "I've kind of been... how to say it? Living rough ever since. I just sort of drift from here to there, but I've been sleeping... well, in this pile of rubble for a week now."

"And there are others who are wounded?"

Kiras nodded. "Probably."

"Doctor," came the Klingon's gruff, urgent voice. "The tricorder's picking up those signals again. Signs of life."

"Thanatosian or Hypnite?"

"Hypnite," Worf replied. He then growled as his tricorder buzzed angrily at him and died. "Damn machine!" he cursed. "This radiation!"

Crusher sighed.

"Don't feel that you have to stay here with me," Kiras said, honestly. "You're a doctor. I understand. Tend to some people who need you."

She looked down at him, at the pitiful young man who was just a pawn in a much bigger game. He didn't have anything to do with any of this upset. He was just caught up in all of it. He wasn't very old, which made it all the more worse. Crusher wondered. He couldn't have been much older than Wesley. But she fought away maternal instincts; now, she was a doctor. "We'll have to leave you here."

"I know," Kiras said in acceptance. "I could try to walk but that'd probably be inadvisable."

"You're right there, young man," Crusher said, managing a smile. "You can't walk... but you could be carried." She glanced at Worf, who was wrestling with his troublesome tricoder.


	10. Politics

**A/N: There are some religious references here but they're not intended to cause offence.**

The Senate House was as grand as Gina had imagined. Data, obviously, was not awed by the sight of it, but she wondered if he felt impressed. If he could feel impressed. The building was tall, perhaps fifty feet high, with great spires rising up to the Heavens in each corner. The roof looked as though it could have been marble, but there was evidently still some reconstruction work going on, as Gina cast her mind back to the events of three years ago, when Markeil had explained to her that the Senate House had, understandably, borne the brunt of the Thanatosian resistance.

In the hot air, Data turned to face her. "Do you have an idea of how the Hypnites will receive you?"

Gina shrugged. "Not really. But I hope that Markeil, or maybe Nilal, will be able to point them in the right direction. After all, we only want to help."

"But as Lieutenant Worf was saying," Data argued, quite rightly. "They may view our attempts to aid them as attempts to interfere."

"They might," she conceded. "But they might not. It's worth a try, surely?"

Data nodded his acceptance and they trudged up to the gate, the brilliant sun beating down on their backs, through the uniforms, it seemed. Gina, without hesitation, pressed the commpanel and waited.

An automated voice greeted them. "Identify yourselves."

Gina cleared her throat and spoke into the receiver. "I am Lieutenant Gina Monroe, and this is Lieutenant Commander Data, of the Federation starship  _Enterprise."_

"Confirmed," came the computerised response. The enormous gates them swung open and Data and Gina were invited into the complex. Through the solid, opaque doors, she hadn't been able to see the guards. There were two Hypnite soldiers, both tall and muscled. They were also carrying rifles over their shoulders. They jabbed their guns in the general direction of the Senate House's foyer and the two Starfleet officers followed duly.

"I recognise you," one of the guards suddenly said, running his eyes over Gina.

She wanted to inquire as to what he meant. For, she had only been on the planet last week for a matter of days, and even then, she hadn't ventured near the Senate House. And she was sure that she didn't recognise him from half a decade ago. Surely he couldn't have either? She furrowed her brow, an action which Data noticed. He raised a finger, obviously about to quiz her on it, but was interrupted before he had the chance to speak.

"Well," the guard continued, as if reading her mind. "There aren't many Starfleet officers here." He laughed briefly. "I never forget a face."

"May I inquire as to your view on the recent seismic disturbances on this planet?" Data asked, innocently enough.

The guard stared at him and raised an eyebrow. He glanced at his colleague, who gave him a gormless shrug. The first guard squared up to the android. "What?"

"He means the natural disasters," Gina cut in. "You know, the volcanic eruptions and landslides?"

The guard briefly fingered his gun. "Oh," he said. "Well, the closest to here was a few miles away." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

Where Doctor Crusher and Worf are, Gina mused.

"And what sort of preparations are being made as a result? Is there a planet-wide evacuation?" Data bombarded the guard with questions. "A continent-wide evacuation would be more feasible, however."

The guard blinked twice, again looking to his colleague for advice, who could offer none. "I am not privy to such information. You are to wait here." He paused. "Are you expecting to meet anyone from the council?"

"Yes, actually," Gina said quickly, desperately. "Senator Markeil."

Again, he turned to whisper something to his colleague, who seemed satisfied. "Senator Markeil will meet you shortly." Then he and his friend disappeared, taking their rifles with them

Around the corner, a figure appeared, dressed in black garb. He was clad head-to-toe in what could have been leather, with a phaser pistol hanging off of a utility belt.

"You came," Markeil announced. He hadn't looked at Data yet, his gaze fully taken up with the sight of Gina. "But I don't really see why." He paused. "And Data... I am sorry that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot."

The awkwardness in the air was tangible.

Data cocked his head, like a confused puppy, as he always did. He regarded Markeil firmly. "I do not see what... Ah. A metaphor."

"The Senate is in session at the minute," Markeil went on, gesturing for them to follow him as he walked. "I excused myself. I have given them a heads up, to make it easier for you."

"You seem very accommodating of our proposal of aid," Data observed.

Markeil threw him a sideways glance. "That is because I am feeling accommodating."

Gina bit her lip. "So you're accepting this?"

Markeil laughed hollowly. "Just because I accept it, doesn't mean that everyone else will. I mean, we're a democracy now. Well, we're supposed to be. It's not like we've got a president now. It's not all up to one man."

"But is it not true that a democracy works with its people, to determine the best results for its people?" Data enquired.

Markeil opened his mouth, said nothing, and closed his mouth. "I suppose so." He stopped in his tracks, momentarily staring at a holo-portrait of what could have been a mythical hero.

"I consider myself well-versed in exo-mythology," Data input. Gina looked a him. "This is your ancient god of wisdom?"

Markeil nodded, somewhat taken aback by Data's knowledge. But then, as he reminded himself, he was an android. Or a robot.

Gina cleared her throat. Her tricorder had been beeping at her. She took it from her utility belt and showed it to Data, who frowned.

"It seems that the seismic disturbances have stopped," he said; he spoke those words as if he was not sure whether he was saying the truth.

"Stopped?" Markeil repeated, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't going to take Data's word for it, but Gina's scolding look told him to calm down.

"Data, what do you think it means?" Gina asked, staring in awe at the tricorder.

Data regarded the tricorder's readouts once more, then he appeared to consult his own systems. "The tricorder is no longer detecting any quakes or landslides. They have... ceased."

"No," Markeil said suddenly, bluntly. "That can't be. That isn't true. You're both mistaken."

They stared at him.

He turned to pace the room, his arms draped behind his back. "I've seen the official readings. They're not anything like that."

"What do you mean by official?" Gina inquired, knitting her brow.

Markeil let out a long, angry sigh. "We might not be as technologically advanced as your Federation," he began, casting a pointed gaze at Data, who obviously took no offence. "But it's still well within our means to falsify information. Put simply, the readings that your tricorders are getting are false, made-up, manufactured. My government dislikes the interference of outsiders, and you are outsiders."

"But I thought-" Gina began, confused.

"You thought we were allies?" Markeil finished her question.

She nodded slowly, very unsure all of a sudden.

"We are allies, but on my government's terms. We don't want you interfering in what we do."

"But, Sir," Data interrupted, having analysed his argument thoroughly. "Hypnos – and, indeed, Thanatos – has requested entrance into the United Federation of Planets. Once you are a member of the Federation, you must allow Starfleet to 'interfere' as you call it, because that it what is in the charter."

"I know that!" he quipped angrily. "Of course I know that! I'm not an idiot." He paused, pinched the bridge of his nose. "But they don't. The other council members don't. Hell, if Nilal hadn't shown me the proper readouts, the ones from the Science Commission, I probably wouldn't have believed you. But what I think doesn't exactly matter here. I'm but one cog in a huge machine."

Data frowned. "I was under the impression that your planet was now governed by a democracy."

Markeil would have laughed, but he knew that this was hardly the time or the place. Besides, it would serve no one any good – except perhaps his ego – to engage in a sparring match with the android. "Data. Anyone knows that a democracy is not really fair, nor is it equal. It's not really a demoracy. There will always be people who want more. They want a little bit more power than others because they believe that they should. There will always be corruption."

That perplexed the android even more. "The word 'democracy' literally translates as, in the Ancient Greek parlance of Earth, 'rule of the people'," he opined, having studied his databases.

"He's got a point, Data," Gina said to him quietly. Markeil had marched off and was again pacing nervously. Gina realised that perhaps he had overstated his importance in the new Hypnos governmental regime. Sure, he was a leading figure.  _A_  leading figure. Not  _the._  "Even in Ancient Athenian democracy, it was only the free Athenian men who had suffrage. Not women or slaves."

Data made an "Ah" noise.

"Markeil?" Gina called out. "What do you suggest we do? If our scans are saying that the disturbances have finished, then that's likely the conclusion that the  _Enterprise_  will come to." She looked to Data. "Should I contact Captain Picard?"

"Yes. That would be a good idea," Data concurred.

"Lieutenant Monroe to  _Enteprise,"_  Gina said aloud after she had tapped her commbadge.

"Enterprise _here,"_  came the captain's voice. He sounded agitated, concerned. "What is it, Lieutenant? Mr La Forge's scans of Hypnos' surface have shown that the seismic troubles have subsided."

She cleared her throat and composed herself. "Sir, Commander Data and I, we've been talking to Markeil, and it appears that the readings you're getting – that Commander La Forge is getting – are incorrect."

 _"Lieutenant?"_  On the bridge of his magnificent starship, he cast a worried look over to his right and saw an equally-alarmed Commander Riker.

"It's difficult to explain, Sir," Gina continued. "But it looks like the Hypnite government has been altering our readings. Markeil has a contact in the Science Commission here, and that contact has told him that the tectonic troubles are only just starting. They haven't stopped. Our scans have been falsified."

 _"I see,"_  was the captain's response for the time being. He rubbed his chin.  _"Thank you, Lieutenant. I have just been hailed by the Prime Minister of Thanatos; he claims that his people are willing to send aid to the Hypnites. I believe that he is sincere and Counsellor Troi has detected no ill-wishes on his behalf, but I would appreciate it if you would let me know when you have any further information. We will remain in orbit and will continue to monitor the transmissions. I'll see what Mr La Forge can do for us. Continue with your mission._ Enterprise _out."_

"Yes, Sir. Monroe out."

****

"Surely we would have detected this? We would have known that something was wrong with our readings," Riker commented to his captain, tapping his foot impatiently on the carpeted Bridge floor.

Picard shook his head. It was a fanciful idea. "I doubt it, Number One."

"It certainly is in-keeping with what we know of the Hypnites," Counsellor Deanna Troi opined. "Secretive, xenophobic, protective."

"What kind of a government would hide such important information as this from its people? There are millions of lives at stake," Riker mused, stroking his beard.

"We will just have to sit it out, Number One."

Concerned, Deanna looked over at Riker. "Will, I do believe that the Thanatosian Prime Minister was telling the truth. His people are apparently more forgiving than the Hypnites are."

Riker pursed his lips. "I hope you're right, Counsellor."

****

Lieutenant Commander Data's combadge chirped. He tapped it. "Commander Data here."

 _"Data."_  It was Doctor Crusher.  _"Captain Picard just hailed me. He said he has reason to believe that our readings are... false."_

"Disregard them, Doctor," Data said promptly. "Our tricorders are giving manufactured information."

Doctor Crusher looked to Lieutenant Worf, who could offer her no explanation.  _"I've been monitoring the radiation levels, however, and it looks like Worf and I can't stay here much longer. Our implants are wearing off. We'll have to transport back to the_ Enterprise. _Will you and Lieutenant Monroe be joining us?"_

Data looked around. "I highly doubt it, Doctor. I shall aim to keep you apprised of our situation. Data out."

He saw that Gina was standing beside Markeil, and the two of them were talking quietly. His android-hearing could, of course, pick it up, but he realised that it was really none of his business. He ignored it, but Gina could could see that he was regarding the pair of them curiously.

"Doctor Crusher and Lieutenant Worf have to return to the ship. The radiation is proving too dangerous for them."

Gina pursed her lips. She was about to respond to Data's new information when an alarm interrupted them.

"The council is in session," Markeil explained, indicating the not-too-pleasant alarm sound. "I'll have to go now. If you two wait here, it'll be fine. I'll simply raise an issue and ask for the two of you to come in as witnesses." He gave Gina a pointed look before disappearing down a vast hallway, past the impressive portraits, and out of view.

"Markeil promised me his good faith," Gina said, by way of an explanation, to Data. "He said that he'd help us, that he'd help the  _Enterprise."_

"Do you believe that he is being sincere?" Data asked her. "I often find that it is beneficial when one can consult 'instinct', or 'gut-feeling'."

Gina smiled at him. "I believe him. He told us that we were getting false readings, didn't he?" Yet, even as she said those words, she still wasn't sure if she should believe them.

Data nodded.

"Data, I do believe that Markeil will raise our concerns with the government. He doesn't want his planet to be destroyed." She sighed. "Because it will be, won't it?"

"That would be the most likely outcome," he responded simply. "If we are unable to neutralise the tectonic disturbances. Five hundred million people inhabit Hypnos, and it is highly unlikely – in fact, I have calculated the odds at seven point five three percent – that we will be able to evacuate the people who live in the most severely affected areas."

"Nearly half a billion people dead, and what for?" Gina echoed bitterly, as the harsh reality of it dawned on her. "What possible reason could anyone have for doing something like this? It's a good as mass-murder."

"I believe that I may have come across some useful information. I have been cross-referencing this particular series of tectonic events with ones stored in my databases. Through comparing numerous parameters, I have only found one viable similar occurrence."

"You have?"

"When I was searching my historical database of Federation planets, I found nothing of value. Similarly, a search of my data on non-aligned worlds was fruitless. However, an analysis of my religion database was much more meaningful." He paused, took a breath and regarded her. "Gina, are you aware of the Old Testament?"

"The  _Bible?"_  she repeated, unsure of where he was going with this.

"That is correct. In the Book of Genesis, chapters six to nine, to be precise, the Christian God creates a catastrophic flood to consume the planet Earth, in order to cleanse its people of their sins and wrongdoing."

"Data, I don't really see-" she began, but then she gasped, eyes and mouth wide with recognition. "You don't think that the Hypnite government is purposefully manipulating these seismic currents in order to... make a... new Hypnos?"

He nodded. "That is precisely what I think."

They didn't have much time to mull over that rather terrifying prospect because two guards had since entered the room. They had phase pistols hanging from their hips and had called Data and Gina over. They were then led into the room behind the doors where Markeil had gone through.

They were confronted with an impressive, metal-panelled conference room. There was very little light and very few windows. The room was dominated by a massive view screen, on which numerous scientific diagrams were illustrated. Data was analysing them carefully. They were written in Hypnitese, but he easily translated them. The seating was arranged in concentric semi-circles, and Gina found herself comparing it to a mixing of an Ancient Roman amphitheater and the House of Commons in the Palace of Westminster in Old Britain. She could see Markeil standing in front of the view screen.

"They are your witnesses?" an individual spoke up from the theater looking derisively at the two people in Starfleet uniforms. "They are outsiders, intruders. What right do they have to sit in this chamber?"

Markeil shook his head vehemently. "I trust both of them unequivocably. I am the First Speaker of this council, and you will listen to me!" He was very close to shouting.

It was then that Gina noticed a smaller table of Hypnite individuals sat at the front of the chamber, just in front of the screen. She almost lost her footing when she recognised one of the faces; Nilal. They had not looked at Data and Gina and seemed rather uninterested in them; instead, they were focusing intently on Markeil.

"It would seem that that collection of people-" Data began quietly, having noticed Gina's glance at this small group of Hypnites "-are in charge."

"You will be silent in the Senate!" one of the guards told Data viciously, and the android was quiet.

"Yes," Markeil continued, unfazed. "This is Lieutenant Commander Data and Lieutenant Gina Monroe of the Federation starship  _Enterprise,_  and they are to serve as my witnesses for my claims."

"Your allegations are extremely severe. You speak of corruption in our Senate, and yet you do not even bring Hypnite witnesses to substantiate your claims," another one of the members said.

A small tremor shook the building. One of the lighting fixtures came loose. Data had heard the creaking of the bolts that were holding it to the ceiling since he had entered the building, and so he wasted no time in darting forward to catch the offending fixture. It had been aiming for the head of the man who had just spoken.

He looked up and saw the android looming over him with the lighting fixture in his pale hands, and he swallowed heavily. "But... I, uh, will listen to what you have to say."

"We all know of these tremors, these quakes, that have been occurring," Markeil continued, after nodding his thanks to Data. "There was one just now, and we cannot deny it. The government – this government – has been actively falsifying readings of these seismic disturbances."

"This is ridiculous!" someone shouted.

"Sir, I feel that it would be wise to take into account what Senator Markeil has to say," Data interjected; he was surprised when no one interrupted him. "This-" he raised up the lighting fixture that was still in his grasp "-would certainly substantiate Senator Markeil's argument."

Gina smiled at him, but she was finding it very hard to hide her fear.

"But who exactly is falsifying these readouts? It's certainly not me!"

Cheers of agreement met this response.

"I don't know exactly who is doing this; it's most likely a group of people. But they seem very determined in what they're doing. This cover-up is very impressive. Anyway, a member of the Science Commission whose name I shall not reveal has provided me with the correct readings of the seismic turbulence," Markeil carried on. He approached the computer terminal in front of the view screen and keyed in a few controls. The screen flickered and at first seemed to show nothing but static but then a picture steadied itself and became clear. He pointed to a specific part of a readout on the screen. "This here is what is happening."

The seismograph-like display showed a very worrying picture indeed. Instead of small bumps, bumps which were fading out into nothing with time, there were very extreme and violent spikes, some of which were literally off the scale. "These are the true readings."

Gasps and curses erupted from the room.

"Commander Data, would it be possible to extrapolate from these current readings to predict the future has in hold for us?" Markeil looked over at the android.

Data set the lighting fixture down, dusted down his uniform, and approached the computer terminal. He typed in something, and Markeil watched in awe as the android's fingers seemed to move faster than the speed of sound. His earnest typing over, Data stepped back and nodded to Markeil.

The graph now depicted not only past and current quakes but also ones that were yet to happen, and the spikes only got larger.

"I can't act alone. I need support, your support. We can do the right thing," Markeil continued, adopting a solemn tone. He knew what was at stake. "These tectonic shifts will consume the planet in a very short amount of time." He glanced at Data.

"Four days, three hours, seven minutes," the android provided.

Gina nodded. "The  _Enterprise_  has offered what help it can. But there are millions of us and one starship does not have sufficient room." She found herself thinking of that famous seaship from centuries ago, the  _Titanic,_  and a grim look appeared on her face,

"Even at warp nine point five," Data calculated. "We will not be able to send enough ships to rescue all of you."

"What do you suggest we do?" This time, it was one of the five men sat at the small table nearest to the view screen.

Markeil did not look at him; instead, his gaze seemed to encompass all of the audience. "There is only one option: we must ask Thanatos for help."


	11. Old Friends

"Do you reckon it'll work?" Gina asked as she paced up and down the waiting room. Markeil had suggested that she get a drink from the replicator, to calm her 'nerves', but she had declined. This was no time for drinking, and she was certainly not in the mood for it. With one defiant sigh, she flopped down on the bench beside Data.

Data frowned and, if he were human, would have looked confused. "I do not know. It is very difficult to predict what the council will say. Judging from their reaction to the Senator's-" he indicated Markeil "- words, it will be a... I believe that the human expression is, a long shot."

Gina smiled at him. "Markeil, what do you think?"

Markeil leant forward on the bench and placed his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He sighed. "I'm afraid I'm as clueless as Data here." He smiled bitterly. "If I'm honest, I didn't think that they'd listen to me anyway. But it was worth a try."

"I cannot see a viable alternative approach," Data admitted sullenly. And then his face lit up. "Unless we contacted a Thanatosian and requested that they back our idea of having Thanatos aid Hypnos."

Markeil's pale face contorted with perplexity. "What are you saying?"

The android continued. "Our captain, Captain Picard, has said that he has been in negotiations with the government on Thanatos. The Thanatosians are willing to help your people, Markeil."

Gina nodded, mesmerised by Data's idea.

But Markeil held up a hand. "But wait a minute... we cannot change the council's mind, even if the Thanatosians are willing to help us."

"Surely you could talk to Nilal?" Gina pressed. "I saw him at the council meeting," she added, upon Markeil's curious look.

Markeil rubbed his chin. "I could, yes. But, firstly, he would be putting his life on the line, and I couldn't ask him to do that. Nilal and I are good friends, and I have no wish to jeopardise our friendship by springing something like this on him. Besides, the other members of the Five would not take kindly to a traitor in their midst." He paused, taking in air. "And, secondly, there is no guarantee that he would say yes."

Gina cast him a dubious, irritated look. "Of course Nilal will say yes!" she said. "He's the one who detected the seismic disturbances in the first place!"

"That does seem probable," Data added, with a nod.

The Senator got to his feet and stroked his temple, apparently coming round to the idea. "I shall speak to him. How long have I got?" He looked at Data.

"It will be one week and two days before the seismic disturbances consume the planet."

****

Nilal could have sworn. And he would would have done had it not been for the servant who was still in the room. Suddenly reminded of the man's presence, Nilal waved a hand at him and he disappeared, and he brought his gaze up to level on Markeil's determined face.

"You cannot be serious!"

The man approached him calmly. His stepped were measured and deliberate. "I am. You know me."

"Yes, I do know you, and that's what is worrying me," Nilal muttered, staring out of the window, overseeing his political dominion. At least, he was, until a small tremor nearly shook the chandelier out of its fastenings. "I can see your estate from here, did you know that?" He nodded to the horizon.

Markeil sighed. "Nilal. I don't want to talk about my estate. This time next week, it won't even be here. The city won't be here. The whole damn planet won't be here!"

"What you're asking me to do is... wrong," Nilal muttered, shaking his head.

"How can you possibly say that? Why did you tell me that these quakes and landslides were much more severe than what our readouts were telling us? Why would you reveal that information if you aren't willing to act on it?" Markeil was very close to boiling point now.

The corner of Nilal's mouth turned upwards in a grim smile. "You said that I knew you. Well, you know me just as well, don't you?"

Markeil nodded warily.

"Then you'll know that I don't act. I talk. I'm not a politician, not really. I'm a scientist."

"I'm not really a politician either; I'm a soldier. But our world is entering a new age and we need strong, loyal, honest politicians to form a good government, a government that will get Hypnos accepted into the Federation and onto a better path." He paused. "You're a scientist, I know. But you're not a coward. And you're not a killer. Because that's what you'll be. An accessory, you do realise that? Of course, I can get off this planet. So can you and I and most of the inhabitants of the Upper District. But what about everyone else? The homeless and the orphans and the poor? We don't have the resources to evacuate people to Thanatos."

"I've been thinking," Nilal then said absently, after a small silence. "You know of the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor?"

Markeil looked at him. His world had used to trade with the Cardassian Union.

"It went on for fifty years. The Bajorans had to put up with half a century of forced labour, starvation and death camps. And the Federation did nothing. Because it couldn't. Bajor was in Cardassian space and it was not a member."

"And your point is...?" Markeil gestured impatiently.

Nilal sighed and looked Markeil straight in the eye. "The point is, we're all on our own if we don't let the  _Enterprise_  and Thanatos help us. If we're not on good terms with the Federation, they're unlikely to help us, and our world will end up being a footnote of the Bajoran Occupation." He paused, pinched his nose. "The point is, I'll talk to the Five for you."

****

"Just call me the puppet-master," Nilal said with a laugh. The laugh wasn't pleasant and it wasn't joyous; it was hollow, bitter, resentful.

Data raised an pale eyebrow and stared in the man's direction. "Excuse me, puppet-master?" he asked with that childlike innocence that Gina so loved.

"Well," Nilal continued, stretching his legs in the back of the hover-car. "I've pulled so many strings."

Under any other circumstances but these, Gina and Markeil would have smiled.

"It looks like we're at the beam-out point," Markeil commented in hushed tones after a period of silence; the hover-car's systems were automated so there was no sign of a nosey driver listening in on their conversation.

As they got out of the car, Gina couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement run through her veins. Beam-out point. She would be back on the  _Enterprise_  very soon. But then she suddenly felt guilty. She woud be leaving this planet, this doomed, forsaken world, and people that she had only moments ago seen in the streets would be dead.

"Gina, are you feeling well?" Data inquired, curiosity slightly altering his features.

His words drew her out of her unpleasant reverie and she looked at him and smiled weakly. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. I trust that you are, too?"

Data nearly smiled. "I am operating within acceptable parameters." With that, he tapped his combadge and heard his captain's voice emanate from it.

"Picard here."

"Sir, it is Commander Data. I, Lieutenant Monroe and two Hypnite officials are ready for transport."

"Very good. Number One, meet our guests, will you?" While the commander got into the turbolift, he paused. "Transporter room, energise."

As Gina stepped off the transporter pad, she wondered if the engines were even running; her ears were soon met by the low, gentle rumbling of the  _Enterprise's_  two impulse engines, however, and she had to chide herself for her silliness.

"I'm pleased that you've decided to acquiesce to our expertise," came Commander Riker's loud voice, and Gina was instantly made aware of his presence in the transporter room. The Captain cast a look at the transporter chief, who nodded and swiftly exited the room.

"It's good to be back, Commander," Gina said, managing a smile. She wondered if Data could tell that it was false.

"I'm sure it is," he said shortly, for his gaze was firmly settled on the two Hypnites stood beside his returned crewmen. "I'm Commander William Riker, and welcome to the  _USS Enterprise."_

"Senator Markeil," Markeil introduced himself, with a kind of bow. He cleared his throat. "And, uh, this is Councilman Nilal, First of the Five and Elite Chancellor," he said, indicated Nilal.

"What a magnificent ship you have," Nilal observed, his eyes momentarily clinging to the starscape out of the window.

"Indeed, Sir," Riker returned smoothly. "Captain Picard has requested a meeting straightaway, so the both of you are to follow me to the conference room. Commander Data, Lieutenant Monroe, you as well."

Captain Jean-Luc Picard was waiting at the head of the table in the conference room, his hands firmly on the purple chair, his gaze steadfast on the people who were entering the room. He gave Riker, Data and Gina a look of sincerity, of solidarity, before looking over at the two white-skinned aliens.

"Senator Markeil," Picard started; his voice was smooth as ever, and he seemed not the slightest bit uncomfortable. He had somehow managed to bury that part of himself which told him that this man had once imprisoned one of his officers. "It is a... pleasure to finally meet you. And, Councilman Nilal, I understand that you are the brains behind this operation."

The Captain took a seat, then gestured for everyone else to do the same.

"This is a very tricky situation indeed," Picard began, his hands forming a steeple on the table, his legs crossed, his brow furrowed. "The  _Enterprise,_  as sanctioned by Starfleet, is more than happy to offer assistance to your people. At full capacity, this ship can carry more than 10,000 people. We are the only Federation ship of sufficient enough size in close enough proximity with your world to be of assitance." He paused, bit his lip. "Of course, the Thanatosians have offered their help."

"And we-" Markeil began to talk, then broke off. "Well, I, am more than happy to accept their help. I'm not an idtot. But it's not going to be that easy getting this accepted by the people."

"Your world is governed by a democracy, is it not?" Riker asked, a frown forming on his face.

Nilal smiled grimly. "That is not the word I would use."

Gina cleared her throat, looking at Riker. "Commander, remember when I told you that the Hypnite government had been interfering with our scans of the tectonic disturbances?"

Riker gave a vague look of understanding.

"Well, it seems that they've – someone in some place of power – has been interfering with more than that."

Data nodded. "We believe that the disasters which are befalling Hypnos are not natural. That is, they are manmade and manipulated."

"You mean to say that someone is doing this on purpose?" Picard questioned, leaning forwards in his chair. "Do you know who?"

Markeil looked quickly at Nilal. "We don't, no. Not that that really matters." Upon Picard's indignant look, he added, "We just need to stop these disasters. Perhaps it's a blessing that they're manmade; surely if they can be created, they can be stopped?"

Data raised a hand. "There is no evidence to support that hypothesis."

Markeil shot him a look, and the android fell silent.

"This contravenes all sorts of regulations," Riker began, stroking his beard. He slammed a hand down onto the table. "Surely Starfleet can do something, Sir?" He leant a bit closer to the Captain and spoke to him in hushed tones. Gina was sure that she could hear some mention of Section 31, or something along those lines.

Picard only shook his head. "Number One, you know we can't. Starfleet and the Federation have no jurisdiction here. We can't go swanning in, demanding that whichever government officials are doing this simply hand themselves in so that we can drop them off at the nearest penal colony."

Riker sighed, at last acquiescing, and sank back into his chair.

Gina raised a hand, took a breath. "I do think that Markeil – I mean, Senator Markeil – has a point. If these were natural seismic disasters, then it would be nearly impossible to prevent them, let alone predict them. But because they're being caused by something, someone, surely we can look out for some sort of pattern? Humanoids are creatures of habit, aren't we? We tend to do similar things over and over again because we like what is familiar to us. We don't like change."

Picard mused it over, nodded. "Mr Data, what do you think?"

"Despite my previous reservations, Sir, I do believe that Lieutenant Monroe's point is valid."

"What do you need?" Riker asked.

Data considered, his golden eyes darting from left to right for one brief instant. "I will require access to all prior tectonic incidents on Hypnos, Commander. As soon as possible."

"Then you will have them," Picard finished. "Monroe, help him. Councilman Nilal, I would also appreciate it if you would assist Commander Data." He stood up, and the other others followed suit, but then he paused. "Senator, I wondered if I might speak with you? Follow me to my ready room. Number One, you have the bridge."

****

Under any other circumstances, Markeil knew that he would have been awed by the ship on which he was. The  _Enterprise_  was the most advanced vessel that he had ever set foot on, and was the flagship of the Federation. But he found that he didn't much care for such trivial matters now. He nearly smiled. Then he faltered, and was finally brought out of his reverie by Captain Picard's brusque tones.

"I had thought that our eventual meeting might be a tad awkward," the Captain began, sitting himself behind his desk, and then gesturing for Markeil to do likewise.

The Senator perched himself across from Picard, watching the man closely, intently, knowing full well where the conversation could end up.

"I had likewise wondered if it would be so, Captain," Markeil said calmly, crossing his legs, leaning forwards. "But the two of us are both intelligent, aren't we? We're also leaders and role models."

A type of smile graced Picard's lips, but he quickly subdued it. "Indeed. The Federation really does offer up whatever help your people might require, Senator. I highly doubt-"

"That you would sit idly by as my people destroy themselves," Markeil finished for him. "Which, I believe, was the fate of the Bajorans."

Picard bristled ever so slightly, placing his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers. He paused, considered. "That is not the issue here, Senator. Surely you understand what I am saying?"

Markeil pursed his lips, blew air through them. "Oh, I do understand, Captain. All too well. But the fact of the matter remains that my government – not that it's mine – is extremely powerful, paranoid and dangerous."

"A perilous combination," Picard observed.

"Exactly," Markeil said with a nod. "And they won't simply watch as the Federation – or the Thanatosians, for that matter – comes barging in, demanding that they cease these seismic disasters. I know my people, Captain."

"Commander Data likened your government's actions to a tale known to many people of my race. The story says that the Creator grew disheartened with the people that he had created, and so he caused a great flood to wipe out those people, and start afresh."

"That's genocide."

"It is indeed. But that is what your people's government is up to. Evidently they resent the possibility of Hypnos joining the Federation-"

"And having peace," Markeil opined, a furious despair settling on his features. "They're using the Thanatosians as scapegoats. I'll bet that the majority of Hypnites resent the fact that Thanatos is likely our only real hope of survival. The government wants to turn us against the Thanatosians so that the majority don't accept aid from Thanatos, thus enabling the government to carry out their plan." He shook his head, sighed, pressed a hand to his weary forehead. "This is..." He broke off. "I never would have seen this coming."

Picard smiled; this time, it appeared full, genuine. "And I never expected to be kidnapped on my way to a peace conference. But I suppose that's the thing about life; you never know what's around the corner."

"Yes..." Markeil began slowly, his voice adopting a quiet, ginger, almost timid, tone. "Captain, I do hope that that whole unfortunate episode is forgotten."

"I believe it is."


	12. The Mistake

"Is there something interesting at the bottom of your glass?"

He didn't reply; she couldn't even see if his facial expression changed. And so she smiled, catching sight of her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows of Ten Forward, the image of her face marred, but perfectly so, by the yellow pinpricks of stars.

At last, he looked up, lifting up his glass – it was synthehol, much to his displeasure – and downing the drink in one. He made a face, then returned it to the table. "Not anymore there isn't."

A sigh escaped from her lips. "What did Captain Picard say to you?"

"Nothing much." He paused, ran his finger along the rim of the glass. "He told me about some great flood in your Earth's history, and I apologised for kidnapping him."

It was then that she wondered if the Captain had truly forgotten that ordeal. Of course, Picard had seen – and survived – worse tribulations than that. But still, she wondered.

"Did you and Data have much luck analysing those seismic patterns?"

"I don't know really." She fell silent, and Markeil watched her face through veiled eyes, ordering himself not to think of her as he wished to, as he wished her to want him to. But she was so intelligent, so kind, so beautiful, and he cursed Ten Foward's alcohol-free bar. She caught him looking at her, and so she continued, quickly, forcefully. "I mean, computing and diagnostics really are Data's forte, and he's told me that he's going as quickly as he can. But he's really no closer to discovering the base of operations; we've no idea from which location these insurgents are manipulating the tectonic movements."

"But it must be on the planet itself? Hypnos?"

She nodded. "Yes, I should think so. And the computer would have to be incredibly large and powerful; it ought to show up on the  _Enterprise's_  scanning systems but so far it hasn't."

"Ah. I think I can help you there."

"You can?"

"Of course," he added with a short smile. Then he frowned. "Only, I'm surprised that Nilal didn't tell you."

"Truth be told, we haven't really seen much of him today. I asked the computer to locate him and apparently he was in sickbay for hours. I didn't want to pry, so I left the matter there."

"Oh."

"Markeil. You were helping me?"

He cleared his throat, tapped his fingers on the table momentarily. "Well, the surface of Hypnos is scattered with Carbidirite Ore. It's practically impenetrable."

"And..." Her mouth fell open, her eyes widened. "That's it! They must be underground. And I'm sure Carbidirite Ore can increase the effects of radiation."

He was silent for a while, but soon appeared to catch on. "They're in the Silver Wastelands. They have to be."

"The Silver-"

But he had already shot to his feet. "That's the only place on the planet where the Carbidirite Ore would be dense enough to interfere with your scanners, but not too dense so that it would have adversely dangerous effects on people."

She followed him out of the room, waving a sort of good-bye to Guinan, who was mopping down the bar, faced with a herd of customer ready to order.

The doors out of Ten Forward slid open with their usual hiss, and Gina had to resort to a quick jog in order to catch up with Markeil. "Markeil, slow down," she panted. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the Bridge, to tell Captain Picard."

She lurched in front of him, taking his hand. "You can't."

"Gina-"

"No. Data should be finished with his calculations by tomorrow afternoon. Now that we know where these insurgents are operating from, more or less, we can accurately tap into their communications and control systems. That's the plan, anyway. Sort of like the Trojan Horse."

He groaned, threw his hands up in the air, and turned towards the turbolift. "I'm done with your Old Earth metaphors and anecdotes."

"What are you going to do?" But she had the feeling that she already knew.

"I'm going to make those bastards pay."

She slunk into the turbolift with him, staring furiously up at him, willing him to meet her gaze. "What?"

"Now I know where they are, it shouldn't be too hard to get a weapons lock on them."

She let out a quiet cry. "I knew I was a fool for thinking that you've changed. How could I be so stupid? You're not a killer, Markeil, I know it! You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?" He turned away. "Computer, bridge."

_"Please state bridge clearance details."_

He lashed out, kicking the turbolift wall. "Well, say it then."

Gina realised that he was looking at her. "What?"

"You must have bridge clearance. Picard trusts you."

"Well, I don't. I'm not senior enough," she managed, her voice barely wavering.

He scoffed, his hand reaching up to hold her face, his skin tingling. "You can't lie to me."

But she backed away, and the look of disgust, of shame, on her face wounded him, but he didn't let her see that. "You don't own me, Markeil. You may have done once upon a time-"

"I never owned you, Gina. Nor did I wish to."

"And you certainly don't now." She was at a loss for ideas when she realised something. "Markeil, if I do take you onto the Bridge, what exactly do you intend to do?"

Silence.

"I've said. I'll tell your Captain the coordinates of the Silver Wastelands, and then-"

"And then what? And then he'll get Commander Worf to train photon torpedoes on that site, obliterating the insurgent headquarters and killing all of them in the process?" She nearly laughed. "You know that's not going to happen. And if you try anything, Security will be on you like a pack of wolves."

"I saw it in his eyes."

She blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Your Captain, he has suffered much. I know of his battle with the Borg. I know what they did to him."

"Did. It's in the past."

"For you, maybe." He picked up his sentence quickly before she could say something. "Every captain is a soldier, and yours is no different. I know that Picard will hesitate little before sacrificing those insurgents in order to save an entire planet. An entire race."

"You're forgetting that half of your people live on Thanatos."

He swore. "Since we're trading historical anecdotes from Old Earth, wasn't it one of your great military commanders who once claimed that, "The needs of the many outweigh-"

"The needs of the few," she finished. Winston Churchill. "Honestly, Markeil, if you want to go to the Bridge, then fine, I'll take you there. But you'll only make a fool of yourself, and then Picard's even more unlikely to listen to you. Please, listen to what I'm saying. You know I care about you. You know I wouldn't want you to do anything as stupid as this."

For a short while, he was silent. There was only the subdued humming of the turbolift as it waited for further orders. And then he pinched his nose, blinked, and looked at her. "You're right." A brief smile. "You're always right."

"What are you going to do, then?" she asked, not taking her gaze off him.

He shrugged. "I don't know. What can I do?" He paused. "I think I need a drink. A proper one. Computer, cancel the previous request. Take me to Deck Fourteen."

Gina frowned. "I don't really think this is a good idea." Upon his bemused look, she added, "I mean, you drowning your sorrows when all of this is happening."

"You're welcome to come with me, to ensure that I don't get myself into any mischief, of course."

"I can't. I've got duty in an hour."

"An hour."

She pursed her lips, stared at the floor. "I can't, Markeil. Really."

He turned to leave once the turbolift doors had opened for him, and she suddenly followed him out, grabbing him by the wrist. He span around, confused by her reaction. "What-?" he started.

Quickly, she retracted her hand and fought down the blush. "I'll tell Captain Picard that you've got a good idea of where these transmissions are coming from. But, Markeil, promise me you won't do anything rash."

"I promise."

She suddenly felt very lonely when the doors slid shut behind him. The turbolift travelled on for a bit further until it came to the top of the  _Enterprise,_  the home of the bridge, the main centre for operations and command. She dithered inside for a while, pacing and thinking, and then stepped out. She was pleased to see that Captain Picard was not sat in his command chair; instead, Commander Riker was.

"Ah, Lieutenant Monroe," Riker declared, looking over his shoulder and catching sight of her.

"Sir," she began quickly, forcing the words out for fear that she would forget them. "I was wondering if I might speak with Captain Picard." She paused. "It concerns the Hypnos situation."

"Ah, yes. He's in his ready room."

The doors to the Captain's ready room slid open and Gina stepped in. "Captain," she said, bowing her head slightly in acknowledgement.

Picard looked up from his book and set it on the table; Gina could just about make out the words The Arden Collection of Shakespeare stenciled in in capital letters down the spine of it. "Lieutenant Monroe. What can I do for you?"

She took a seat opposite him. "Sir, it's about the situation with Hypnos."

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards in a small smile. "It always seems to be."

She laughed nervously, crossing her legs. "Well, Sir, Senator Markeil knows... well, think she knows... well, he told me that-"

He steepled his fingers on the table. "Get to the point, Lieutenant."

"He thinks he knows the location of the transmissions that are manipulating Hypnos' tectonic plates."

Picard stroked his chin thoughtfully, pursed his lips. "You did well to tell me. But it would have made rather more sense if the Senator had told me himself. I spoke with him only recently."

"He only figured it out recently, Sir. And, well, I said to him that I'd tell you because, well, I didn't much like what he had in mind."

"Which was?"

"To have you train all weapons on the Silver Wastelands – that's where the transmissions are likely coming from – and reduce it to rubble."

"Ah. I see."

Before she could say anything else, the door slid open and someone stepped in.

Riker's face was sombre in the doorway. "Sir, you'd better come quickly. A shuttle craft has gone missing."

 _"Merde,"_  Picard muttered. He cast a gaze over at his book. "Number One, how exactly does a shuttle craft go missing? Who is in it?"

"We don't know, Sir."

"I do," Gina said quickly, suddenly. "It's Markeil."

The two men stared at her for a short moment, before charging over to the bridge. Gina followed them quickly, going to stand behind Data at his Ops chair. The android apparently sensed her presence; he followed her line of sight and, sure enough, in between the  _Enterprise's b_ ow and the rotating sphere that was Hypnos, there was a tiny white shuttle craft.

Picard lowered himself into his chair, aware of Deanna's wary gaze on him. "Mr Worf, lock on to the shuttle craft with a tractor beam."

"I am trying, Sir," came the Klingon's gruff voice. "There is no response."

Picard sighed.

"Data, what's going on?" Riker urged.

The android's white fingers skated over his console, his yellow eyes darted right and left. "I do not know, Sir. Systems indicate that the tractor beam is working at full capacity."

"I beg to differ," Worf retorted.

Gina watched wide-eyed as the shuttle craft flew further away, further out of reach. She berated herself for letting Markeil go, for letting him walk out of that turbolift. How could she have been so naive? He hadn't really given up. But then she realised the answer, and she nearly needed to sit down. She knew that she couldn't guarantee what would have happened if she had accompanied Markeil to his room. She hated herself for it, and her guilt brought to mind images of her husband and her child.

She needed to make it right.

"Has that shuttle craft got any weapons on board, Mr Data?"

Data turned to face his Captain. "Affirmative, Sir. It is equipped with level two phasers."

"Level two?" Riker repeated, rubbing his beard. "Surely that's not enough fire power to do much damage."

"Actually, Sir," Worf began, his voice ringing out across the bridge. "The effect of level two phasers when fired in atmospheres rich in Epsilon radiation has been known to increase tenfold."

"Mr Data, have you got any idea of what has disrupted our tractor beam?" Picard inquired, his face pensive and concerned.

"I am formulating an idea, Sir," Data replied.

"Never mind. Mr Worf, hail the shuttle craft."

Worf keyed a few controls on his console. "No response."

"Try again, Mr Worf," Riker said.

"Nothing, Sir. He has encrypted his signal. I cannot reach him."

"I am detecting no hostility from Senator Markeil," Deanna piped up. "He means us no harm."

"That may be, but he means harm to some of the people down on that planet," Riker said, giving her a pointed look. "And if he fires those phasers of his, he'll rip a whole in the whole continent."

"What do you suggest, then?" Deanna inquired.

"Well, his shields are down. I suggest we beam him up. Mr-"

But Gina, who had taken the seat at the Conn, turned around to face him. "Hail him one more time. Tell him I want to speak with him."

Riker considered this, but did nod his approval to Worf, who acquiesced. There was silence, and Picard was about to ask the transporter chief to get ready to beam someone on board, but then the silence was broken.

"Transmission coming through, Sir," Worf announced. "He says he'll return the shuttle craft if we can promise that Lieutenant Monroe will be the only one in the shuttle bay when he arrives. Should I consent?"

Picard looked to Gina, who nodded earnestly.

"Craft is coming about, direct course for our main shuttle bay," Worf continued.

****

Gina rung her hands as she stood in the hollow space of the  _Enterprise's_  main shuttle bay. The place was wall-to-wall grey, and she felt very insignificant. Soon enough, one of those walls became black as the doors opened to reveal the star-spotted sky. The shuttle craft's engines hummed as it hovered in and set itself down. She took a step forward, feeling the heat from the craft's small impulse engines.

Its door opened. "I didn't think you'd agree."

She watched as he hopped down from the craft and came over to her; his face was stern, his eyes were bright and his jaw was set. "I didn't really have a choice."

"You could've let your captain fire on my ship."

"I couldn't have," she said quickly, bluntly. "The radiation would have reacted with the phaser-fire, and most of your planet would now be rubble."

"It will soon be so anyway," he replied shortly. "If you could've done so, would you?"

"Yes," she said suddenly, forcefully; she had not thought about saying it, that one little word, and she had not meant it. She sighed, closed her eyes. "Honestly, Markeil, what the hell did you go and do that for? I thought you'd agreed not to do anything. How could you be so  _stupid?"_

"Gina. I hate my people and I hate my planet. I don't have anything worth living for. I had you, and then I lost you, and I'll  _never_  get you back."

She stared at him, affronted, confused. "Is that seriously what all of this is about? You don't want to stop the corruption? To save your people? You want me?" She nearly scoffed.

A bitter laugh escaped from his lips and he shuffled his feet on the cold floor of the hangar. "Of course it is."

He had spoke it so quietly that she wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly. She bit her bottom lip, sighed, and then she stepped over to him. Her steps were ginger, furtive, considered. She took his hand and held it in her own, feeling the coolness of his fingers and the suppleness of his wrist. She managed to catch his eye.

"Whatever we had, it was in the past," she said slowly, softly. "It was unconventional, yes, and it was difficult, yes, but we had some good times. I cared for you so much, Markeil."

"But that's just it," he said abruptly, pressing a palm to her cheek, holding her as if he wouldn't ever let go. "I still love you, Gina. I never stopped. I don't think I ever can."

"But you have to," she said urgently, her voice cracking. "I've moved on. I'm married. I have a child with another man whom I love. You must leave me be, for your sake as well as mine."

"I can't, Gina. I can't."

She shrugged herself out of his grip and made for the door, her hand hovering over the panel that was to the side of it. "Security will be here in a short while, so don't think about going anywhere."

As soon as she had left the shuttle hangar, as soon as the door had closed, she backed against the wall and sniffled. Her eyes were wet and bleary with tears, her nose was blocked, her cheeks were hot. Having taken a deep breath and cleared her throat, she left the shuttle bay behind, passing a security detachment on the way. Her route took her past sickbay, and a familiar voice drew her closer.

"Doctor Crusher," she said, her voice lifting up ever so slightly, her mood brightening. "How are you?"

"Well, I'm a little busy at the moment," Crusher said, turning around for the briefest of moments while she administered some medicine to a patient. "But, otherwise, I'm very well. And yourself?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she said quickly. "But I do have a bit of an ulterior motive. I was told that Councilman Nilal was here."

"He was. He was visiting someone, a family member, he said."

Gina cast her gaze around the room; but instead of the stark white skin of a Hypnite, she saw the pale green skin of a Thanatosian.

"Is it all right if I speak with him?" she asked, nodding to the Thanatosian in the bed to the far left of sickbay.

Doctor Crusher smiled. "Of course." She caught Gina's eye. "You might recognise him. His name is Kiras. He's the Thanatosian who we rescued while you were... held captive."

As she approached the bed, Gina could just about make out a serious of readings on the patient's obs chart. Breathing and heartbeat looked normal, but she could see that the man in the bed certainly could have looked better. His left thigh was encased in a thick white bandage, and his olive skin was stark against it. His eyes were closed, the lids fluttering ever so slightly, and his chest was moving rhythmically up and down. She had barely placed a hand on the guard rail around the bed when he fixed his gaze on her, and something filled his eyes. She couldn't quite make out what it was, but it hovered somewhere between trepidation and confusion.

"Hello," she began softly, gently. "I'm Lieutenant Monroe."

He stared at her for a short while, taking in her presence and her words. "Monroe," he repeated quietly, as if to himself. "I seem to recognise that name." Then he shook his head and hauled himself up into a seated position, groaning in the process. "Nevermind. What are you doing here?"

She considered. She didn't really have a good answer. "I wasn't aware that we had any Thanatosians on board, and, well, given the current situation, I thought it prudent to talk with you."

He raised an eyebrow, and she saw how young he was; younger than her. His skin was smooth, his eyes were curious and his hair was curly. "I'm Kiras, by the way."

"I know; Doctor Crusher told me," she said. "How did you end up here? What happened to your leg?" She gestured.

Absently, his hand trailed down to his wounded thigh. He patted it gently. "I was on Hypnos. I'd moved there soon after the war ended, in the hopes of starting afresh. My family on Thanatos are all dead, but I grew friendly with a Hypnite – Jorel, his name was – and I soon found out that I had a Hypnite relative." He paused, thought over his words, and Gina wondered if he was as confused as she was.

"Who?"

"Me."

She heard the voice and wheeled around, confusion on her face. "Nilal?"

"Indeed," he said, his mouth curving into a grin. "We're fifth cousins twice removed, apparently."

"But don't hold us to it," Kiras chimed in, and Gina was pleased to see him smiling.

"That's why you were spending so much time here," she said quietly, almost to herself.

"Well, I've got very little family," Nilal began slowly, as if embarrassed. "So when I heard about Kiras, I could hardly ignore him, could I?"

"You know, it's funny," Kiras began. "I'm a soldier. He's a peacekeeper."

"I attempt to keep the peace," Nilal said quickly. "And it doesn't always work."

"Have you heard about Markeil?"

"Oh, you mean that idiotic little stunt of his?" Nilal asked, then nodded. "Of course I know."

"The crew haven't stopped talking about it this past hour," Kiras added.

Gina sighed, pressed a hand to her forehead. "He's in the brig now. I only hope that Data and Geordi have gotten somewhere with their endeavours."

Nilal made a face of curiosity, but Gina realised that she couldn't reveal it to him. Not there and then.

Kiras caught her eye. "You two, go. The Doctor said that I ought to get some rest. This phaser wound won't heal itself."


	13. Like Sunshine After Rain

Gina had not slept well that night. The  _Enterprise's_  engines were humming as they always did, steadily and quietly. Her pillow was soft and her duvet was quilted. But her mind was awake and working and always occupied. She harrumphed one last time and glanced at the clock. 0500 hours. She didn't have duty for another three hours, but she doubted that she'd be able to fall back asleep. If she was asleep in the first place, of course. So she decided to treat herself to a half-hour long shower and a breakfast fit for a king.

An hour or so later, she had stepped into, and then out of, the sonic shower, and was brushing her hair. She picked up a hairband, secured her brunette locks into a bun, with two unruly tendrils hanging down by her ears, and slipped into her uniform.

She found herself using the window as a mirror, but she was soon no longer looking at her own reflection, but rather at the blanket of space that surrounded her and ship. The stars were faraway dots, orange, white, red and brown. There were millions of them. In the foreground, she could make out two distinct spheres. One was like a green and blue marble. The other used to be green and blue. Now, much of the green had been replaced with the red of lava and the grey-brown of rubble and torn-up earth; the blue waters were not calm but tempestuous and stormy, swirling violently at the poles and the equator. Thanatos and Hypnos.

She wondered which of the stars in the distant night sky had planets orbiting them, and which of those planets had life. And she wondered which of those stars were orbited by a planet called Vulcan, where her husband was. And which star had a planet called Earth orbiting around it; she tried to imagine her son playing with his grandparents in Scotland. She nearly had the foolish impulse to place her hand on the cool glass, as if she could reach out and scoop up the planets and bring her family nearer. She sighed.

"One cappuccino, extra froth," she asked of the replicator. "And two slices of tiger bread, toasted, with feta cheese and potato. Oh, and a fruit salad."

The machine hummed then dispensed her items. She picked them up and set them down at the computer terminal. It beeped, and she frowned upon realising that there was a transmission for her. She keyed in a command and a document appeared on the screen. But for the Federation emblem in the top left corner, it consisted only of words.

"Alex..." She had barely spoken the name, only whispered it, breathed it, gasped it. As her mouth fell open, she felt the saltiness of tears. She could see very little but she forced herself to read the document again and again. It did not change, and it did not lie.

Her husband was dead.

She sat there in silence for longer than she cared to count. The next time she looked at the clock, it was 0755 hours and she knew she would be late for her shift in Engineering. She touched a finger to the mug of coffee; it had gone cold. Looking at the plate of food made her feel sick.

She tapped her combadge. "Captain Picard?"

 _"Picard here,"_  came his voice, blunt and clear as usual.

"It's Lieutenant Monroe, Sir," she began. "I... I've just received some... some... well, I—"

 _"I know, Lieutenant."_  This time, his tone was softer, more considered, perhaps even paternal.  _"Starfleet sent me a communique a few minutes ago. I am so sorry for your loss. Of course, you will be suspended from duty."_

She sniffed, pinched her nose. "No, Sir. Don't. I can't not work."

Though she could not see it, Picard shook his head.  _"Lieutenant, it is an order not a request. As from now, you are on compassionate leave. I will ensure that your role in Engineering is filled by the most able of replacements. You have my sympathies. I understand if you wish to be alone today, but I'm asking uou to speak to Counsellor Troi at some point. In the mean time, should you need anything, you know where help is. Picard out."_

She thought about hailing him again, but she knew that she couldn't argue with him. He was her Captain and she respected that. She picked up her cappuccino and drank it, though it was cold and tasted unpleasant. She saw the holophoto next to the computer. It was of she, Alexander and Jack on Earth's moon. That time now felt very far away.

A few hours later, there was a chime at her door. She blinked, wiped her eyes. "Who is it?"

"It is Commander Data."

"Come in."

The door slid open and in stepped the android. If he had been human, Gina would have said that he looked mournful. He approached her slowly, his pale eyes almost hinting at apprehension. "Gina, I wished to see how you were faring."

"How I'm faring?" she repeated, fighting down the urge to laugh. "I've just learned that my husband is dead!"

"I understand that this-"

"Oh, Data, you don't understand," she murmured, flopping down on the couch, bringing a hand to her forehead. "And I wouldn't expect you to."

"Geordi advised me against visiting you. He claimed that since the trauma is so fresh, you would not be in the best of mindsets."

A hollow laugh escaped her lips. "Data, sit down. Why did you come?"

"Because you are my friend and I was concerned for you," he replied simply, taking a tentative seat next to her.

"It was a bomb. That's what they're all saying, anyway. At the embassy. You know he was the Earth Ambassador to Vulcan?"

Data nodded. "I was aware."

"Some extremists, they reckon. They claim to be true followers of Surak or something. But tell me this, Data. If Surak's teachings centered on logic and peace, what the hell did they go and plant a bomb for?"

"I do not know," he said honestly. "Such an act would seem to be counterproductive to their beliefs." He paused. "Gina, may I inquire as to the whereabouts of your son?"

The mention of Jack briefly preoccupied her. "He's staying with his grandparents, in Edinburgh." She reached out and took Data's cold, pale hand in hers. "Thank you for coming to see me, Data. But I'd like it if you left me alone now."

Data acquiesced and was almost halfway through the door when the computer terminal beeped again. Gina wiped her eyes and gave Data a shy smile when she saw that he had not quite left.

She pressed the keyboard and waited, her fingers drumming on the desk, her chest going up and down.

_"Gina."_

She blinked, rubbed her eyes, wondered if she was seeing things. But she was seeing correctly. There, in front of her, on the screen, though the connection was bad, she was looking at the impossible. His face was smeared with blood and ash, his clothes were ripped and torn, and the building around him was falling to pieces, but it was him.

"Oh my God..." she breathed, clamping a hand to her mouth, lowering her shaking form into a chair. "Alex... you're alright! You're here! Oh, God, don't you do that to me again!"

He laughed bitterly, coughed.  _"Do what?"_  And then he broke into a grin, his white teeth dazzling against the smears of black ash and powder on his cheeks. "You didn't think I'd forgotten about you?"

"What happened? Are you hurt?" she demanded.

 _"There was a bomb,"_  he began slowly, as if he didn't quite believe it, despite the evidence in front of him.

"At the Vulcan Embassy," she finished for him. "I got a message from Starfleet. It said... it said that you'd died. That you'd been killed."

 _"Well, I haven't,_ " he said coolly.  _"Sorry to disappoint."_

"Don't talk like that!" she shouted. "I thought you'd been blown up. I thought I'd never see you again!"

He shook his head.  _"Gina, I'm fine. It's all been a horrible misunderstanding."_

"Was anyone killed?"

 _"Four people were,"_  he said quietly.  _"Two humans, two Vulcans. There are medics here now; they're behind me. The roof was in the process of caving in but it's being propped up by something. I need to go now; they're clearing everyone out. Please, don't worry. I love you."_

"I love you, too."

The line went dead.

She would have fainted if she hadn't been sat down. She picked herself up from the chair and grabed Data ino her arms. "He's alive, Data! He's okay! They got it wrong. Alex – my Alex – he's okay!"

"Gina, I am pleased for you," came his response, stoic and mechanical as usual. But she appreciated his words nonetheless.

"I must see him," she said quickly, pulling herself out of the embrace, holding Data by the shoulders. "Alex, I need to see him."

"But you saw him on the video feed. Starfleet medical facilities are some of the best in the quadrant, Gina. You need not worry for your husband's wellbeing; he is certainly being taken care of on Vulcan."

She threw him a wry smile and was already heading for the door. "I know. You're right. You're always right, Data."

"I endeavour to be as correct as possible with all information that I impart."

"I should tell Captain Picard that I'll be reporting for duty as usual."

"It would be advantageous if you were to come to Science Laboratory Four after you have spoken with the Captain," the android said. "Commander La Forge and I are on the verge of deciphering the frequency being used by the insurgents."

****

With a smile on her face and very nearly a spring in her step, she returned from the bridge, intent on satisfying Data's request. Science Lab Four was on deck twenty-nine and so was quite a trek from the  _Enterprise's_  main bridge.

"Lieutenant Monroe, you're right on time," came Geordi La Forge's voice; she had barely stepped through the doorway.

She raised an eyebrow, came over to the chief engineer. "I am? For what?"

There was a clunk and a thud as Data appeared from underneath the table, poking his head up as a meerkat might. "Ah, Lieutenant," he said, looking as surprised as an android could. "We have isolated the frequency; it was a great help knowing where exactly the signal was coming from. Captain Picard wasted no time in telling us about the Silver Wastelands."

"It made the most sense, really," she said simply, picking up a tricorder absently and weighing it in her hands. "But it's Senator Markeil that we should really be thanking." It was then that she recalled that he was currently being held in the brig.

Data clambered out from underneath the table, holding a length of wire in one hand and a spanner in the other.

"It's exactly as we thought, Data," Geordi said, beckoning the two of them over. They watched over his shoulders. "They're using a Delta band frequency. It would've been lost in the depths of Cosmic Background Radiation; we'd never have been able to locate the source without the specifics. On top of that, it's highly encrypted; my guess is there's a level ten security seal on the data."

Data made a noise of understanding. "That does seem the most plausible idea. However, there seems to be a flaw with our plan. Though we have correctly identified the type of the transmission wave being used by the insurgents-"

"And we do know the precise coordinates of their source of transmission," Geordi put in.

"I cannot think of a viable way by which we can 'piggyback', if you will, onto a Delta wave signal," Data continued. "I have consulted my neural net, and I can find no evidence of this ever having been achieved before."

"First time for everything," Gina said quietly. She bit her lower lip, thought. She took to drumming her fingers on the table. She saw Geordi shake his head and heard him sigh. "Hold on...What if we record the signal, and then break it up into its constituent parts. If we then reverse it, it should cause a feedback loop, which will momentarily fool the transmission into thinking its being cancelled and returned to its original sender. Then we should be able to hack into it as we would with any other encrypted signal."

Geordi appeared to be considering her proposal, and he soon had a broad grin on his face. "You know... it just might work."

****

The usual senior crew were sat in the conference table. Captain Picard was sat at the head of the oval desk, his dark eyes intense, his mouth a straight line, his hands steepled neatly in front of him. Commander Riker sat to his left, Counsellor Troi to his right. Doctor Crusher, Commander La Forge, Lieutenant Worf and Commander Data were nearby. Beyond them, was Lieutenant Monroe.

For the time being, her gaze had been fiercely concentrated on the starscape in front of her; millions of distant bright stars shimmered as the  _Enterprise_  soared through the night sky.

"I have to say, I'm impressed, Lieutenant," Captain Picard began, his voice smooth and clear.

Gina realised that his eyes had settled on her. "Thank you, Captain. It was really rather simple, actually. We-"

The Captain held up a hand and she fell silent; evidently he didn't want to hear all of the scientific details. He was working to a deadline and all he needed to know was if he would meet it, if those lives would be saved. "Regardless of how it worked, I'm sure it was ingenious." He turned his head. "Mr Data?"

The android looked up. "We have managed to extract a significant amount of data from the insurgents' latest transmission."

"And? What did it say?" Riker asked, leaning forward.

"It appears that the next seismic disturbance on Hypnos will be an earthquake," Data said. "In the Kular District."

"But isn't that one of their biggest cities?" Deanna inquired, her black eyes wide.

Worf nodded. "My scans have indicated that it boasts a population of five million."

"Oh, don't worry, Counsellor," Geordi said promptly. He nodded to Picard, who returned to gesture, getting to his feet and coming to stand at the head of the table. He pressed a few keys on the display screen behind him. "By tapping into the transmission – and Lieutenant Monroe's expertise have ensured that we will do so undetected – we will be able to alter the commands sent by the insurgents."

Deanna breathed a sigh of relief, but next to her, Doctor Crusher was frowning. "Hang on a minute. Am I the only one who doesn't understand this? How are these people altering their planet's tectonic plates. Surely that's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible, Doctor," Data said simply.

Crusher's frown showed no signs of dissipating, so Gina decided to giver her her best answer. "It seems likely that these insurgents have found a way of implanting von Neumann nanites into Hypnos' crust. These nanites would be remotely accessed and controlled by the insurgents in their bunker beneath the Silver Wastelands – of course, another advantage of their base of operations being underground is that the nanites would be easier to control." She paused, thought over her argument. "These nanites have probably been equipped with micro drills and explosives; if a few hundred of them all exploded or put pressure on the crust in some way, the result could be catastrophic."

"But there's a catch when using nanites," Geordi said slowly, bringing up a diagram of one of the machines onto the screen. "They're based on the von Neumann design. As such, they can, well.. they can breed. As was demonstrated when Doctor Stubbs attempted to destroy the nanites who were interfering with his experiments and the nanites retaliated by attacking our life support systems, the Hypnite's nanites could possibly have become self-aware."

Picard's face was grave. "They could do what all oppressed individuals eventually resort to doing," he began. "Rebellion."

"And they'll end up taking the whole planet down with them," Riker finished.

"If you start immediately, will you be able to alter that order?" Picard asked, his eyes darting between Geordi, Data and Gina.

All three of them were silent, not wanting to tell him the truth. Geordi cleared his throat. "No, Sir. We would need at least an hour; there's not enough time for us to do anything about the earthquake in Kular."

"Five million people," Deanna mouthed.

"But we'll certainly be able to prevent the next one. If they are exponential in their effect, this next one could wipe out half of the Sourthern Continent."

"The I suggest you get started," Picard said brusquely. "Get yourselves down to the lab on the double."

There was a chorus of "Yes, Sir!" and then the whoosh of air as the three engineers left their seats and the conference room.

**A/N: The von Neumann nanites are based off of the 'real' probe, which are a type of self-replicating spacecraft conceptualised by John von Neumann**


	14. Temptation

**A/N: This chapter is rated T (but that rating's probably a bit unnecessary).**

"You saved millions of people. Millions of my people. Thank you."

Gina watched him through her lashes, not wanting him to realise that her gaze had been on him for so long. He was sat on the bunk, his legs swung over the side, his head turned away from her. He was staring at the wall, and she wondered, perhaps, if he likewise did not wish for his face to be seen.

"I only did what anyone would do," she said quietly, not entirely believing her own words. "Can you leave us?" She turned to the lone security guard standing by the door.

"Sir, I was instructed to remain whatever the circumstances."

She sighed, pinched her nose. "Surely he's due to be released soon?"

The guard pursed his lips, looking slightly uncomfortable. He checked his padd. "Yes, Sir, two hours' time."

When that two hours was up, she returned to the brig, and saw Markeil stepping out of the cell once the forcefield had been deactivated. His face was blank, his jaw set. But she didn't find it difficult to realise what he was thinking.

"I thought you wanted to blow them up," she muttered as the walked out of the brig together, and down the corridor.

"I wanted to blow the insurgents up," he said smoothly. "And I'm still convinced that I had the better plan."

"It's not a competition. Millions of Hypnites are safe – well, safer – because of Starfleet." They rounded a corner, and she ended up walking in front of him.

He made himself not look at her as she walked, at her hair wound tightly in a bun, at her slim legs as they took steps.

"But we're not finished yet," she continued, slowing down her pace. "We need to gain full control of the transmission if we're to shut down these nanites before they can do any more damage. Otherwise all of this will have been for nothing." She stopped outside a door. "This is your stop, I believe."

"You're leaving?"

"I've got to go back and continue working with Geordi and Data. We're so close to completely cracking the encryption. A couple more hours' work and I reckon we'll have total control of the signal."

"Surely you can spare a few minutes?"

"But it won't be a few minutes, will it?"

He rubbed his temple. "One drink, a few words. That's all I'm asking. When's the next tectonic shift due to occur?"

She pursed her lips. "Two days' time."

"Exactly. You've got plenty of time." And with that, he keyed in his entrance code and the door slid open. Gina felt a chill come over her, despite the fact that it was rather warm in the room.

She looked around the room. He caught her eye and grinned.

"It's rather different to what I'm used to," he said pointedly.

In spite of herself, she smiled. "Yes, Starfleet seems to have missed the boat when it comes to interior design."

"Please, sit down." He waved her over to the couch and she perched on the edge of it, crossing her legs.

She wondered – briefly – if he was going to sit next to her. But he didn't. He sat himself on the other end of the couch, and there was a metre between them. She watched him out of the corner of her eye; his hair looked perhaps a little lank, his jaw was set quite firmly. The awkwardness was almost palpable. She thought very hard about making up some excuse about wanting to go and visit Data. But then she was going to see him and Geordi in a few hours' time anyway, so she promptly shelved that idea.

"Ah!" He got to his feet, slapped his thighs. "I promised you a drink, didn't I?"

"I suppose you did. But, honestly, don't worry about it." She spoke quite quickly, eager to shorten her visit if she could, because she didn't want to accept what might happen. "Look, I might as well go."

He turned to face her, caught her eye, and he looked almost wounded.

"All right, then," she said quietly, finally. "One drink. That's it."

"That's it." A grin broke on his face, and he pulled a bottle of something out of a cabinet. He noticed her confused expression. "See, it's proper. Not that synthehol stuff." He poured the mysterious red liquid into two glasses.

She tentatively took the one proffered to her and held it up to her nose. She sniffed it, sipped it, then made a face of disgust. "What the...?" Then she looked at the label on the bottle. "Klingon bloodwine?"

The corners of his mouth curled upwards in a smirk. "It was the only alcohol I could get my hands on."

"Actually, once you get used to it, it's not that bad." She took another sip, and soon, she had finished her glass.

"You want to leave, don't you?"

The question was so forthright, so upfront, that it caught her by surprise. She looked at him, set her wineglass down.

"Don't deny it. You've probably been formulating excuses," he continued, ignoring her silence and her indignant look.

"Markeil, I-"

"Go on, then. I shouldn't have invited you here."

"I shouldn't have come."

"Why?"

"We both know what's going to happen." She took a breath, stood up, made for the door, felt his hand on her arm.

"What's going to happen?" he asked, and the innocence with which he had asked it infuriated her.

His hand was still on her wrist, holding it gently, softly. He was looking down at her, daring her to meet his eye. Her lips parted, she shook her head. "I need to go."

"I'm not going to do anything." But he was still touching her.

"I thought he'd died."

"You- What-"

She looked away, wiped away the preeminent tears before they had a chance to fall. "Alex. My husband. I got a communique saying that he'd been killed."

"Oh, Gina, I'm so sorry," he said quickly, almost forcefully. "If there's anything I can do-"

She shook her head. "No, no, it was wrong. He's all right. He's still alive."

"Then, why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset," she shot back. "I should be, but I'm not. And that's what it is. What kind of person am I? What kind of wife am I?"

He could do little but watch her, and rue himself for giving her that bloodwine.

"You're certainly not leaving now, not when you're in this state."

She touched her cheeks briefly, felt her make up running. Her hair was coming out and she decided to do away with the bun altogether.

With her hair loose, her eyes wide and bright, and her face forlorn, Markeil wondered if she had ever looked so beautiful, so vulnerable. He had the compulsion to take her in his arms, but he didn't. He remained still.

"I don't want to leave, not now."

"Why?"

"Because I would have been more upset if it had been you mentioned by that communique."

He forced himself to remain in control. "What are you saying?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Whatever it is, we can't do this. We can't. You're married, and I- and I thought we'd decided that this was in the past. I thought you decided that."

"We only married because I was pregnant," she murmured. "He didn't want me to be left alone to cope with a child and a career in Starfleet. And, over the months and years, I suppose we grew close. I think I loved him. I really think I did."

"Surely he loves you, too."

"He does." And it was those words, that realisation, that made her feel so wounded, so hurt, so bad. She could not be happy without destroying Alex's life. "But I never forgot you, Markeil. Yes, I may have said that I did. But I didn't. Not really. How could I? That communique made me see straight; I didn't want it to be like this, but that's how it is. I love you."

She stood on her toes, reached a hand up to touch his face, smooth and cold as it was. She looped her arms around his neck and drew him down to her, their faces mere centimetres apart. The air stood still, there was no noise. Then gently, slowly, she pressed her lips to his.

He knew that he should draw back, that he should step away and tell her to leave, but he couldn't, and he didn't wish to. So he placed his hands on her waist, feeling every part of her as if he would never touch her again. He nuzzled her neck and kissed her cheek, then her forehead, then her collarbone. When she pulled back, she regarded him through lowered lashes, and she slipped her uniform top over her shoulders. He stared in awe; it had been so long since he had seen her like that, and he had no desire to forget it. He pulled her towards him again, took off his own shirt, felt her breasts.

It was then that she caught sight of two figures moving in the reflection of the window, and she realised quickly who those two figures were and what they were doing. She froze, and he caught her eye curiously.

"Gina? What is it?" He started but she had already thrown her top back on and made for the door.

"I need to go. We... ah... that was stupid of me. I'm expected in Engineering."

The door slid shut, and he was left there alone with nothing to do but watch her leave.

"Lieutenant? Are you okay?"

She found herself glaring at Geordi. "Yes, Commander, I'm fine," she said shortly.

"It's just, your hair is, well, all mussed up. And your commbadge is missing."

"Oh, that. I dropped it." She quickly tied her hair back up, took a breath. "Have I, uh, missed much?"

"On the contrary," came Data's voice. "My internal chronometer indicates that you are five point seven minutes early."

"Take a look at this," Geordi said, handing a paddover to her.

She regarded it, wide-eyed. "Is this what I think it is?"

"The chart predicts the projected reproduction rate of the nanites," he said, with a grim smile. "At most, we've got a few days before they completely take over control. Even the Hypnites won't know what's hit them."

Gina's face was grave. "Surely we could just open up a channel to the Hypnites? To the government? I'm sure Markeil would be happy to oblige. We can... I don't know... tell them politely that they need to stop what they're doing. If they don't stop and they continue to use these nanites to manipulate the tectonics, the whole planet will tear itself apart, nanites and Hypnites and all."

Geordi caught her eye, as much as he could with his VISOR, and sighed. "I wish it were that simple."

"The Hypnites have not, so far, presented themselves as a species willing to appreciate the input of others," Data said.

"I'll ask Captain Picard. I'm sure he'd give me the go-ahead to discuss this with Markeil. After all, he and Nilal must still have contacts in the government. If we're lucky, they might know one or two of these so called 'insurgents'," she reasoned, barely stopping to think.

"I have to say, I would rather we took the path of diplomacy instead of violence," Geordi opined.

"Given the current tensions, and if relations between the Federation and Hypnos take a turn for the worse, a war might be likely," Data said.

"Wait."

The two of them looked at at her, expectant.

"Couldn't we just switch off the nanites?"

"Switch them off?" Geordi repeated, turning the words over in his head, his analytical mind thinking it through.

"Yeah," she continued. "We're sort of halfway there already. After all, by tapping into the insurgents' transmission and altering the instructions, weren't we controlling the nanites?"

"I seem to follow your line of reasoning," Data said, his yellow eyes curious, his head cocked to one side. "But it appears to be fruitless."

She did not let her face fall. "How? If we can control them, surely it will be easy to turn to stop them? To turn them off?"

"That is an understandable assumption. While a third party could manipulate the orders being given to the nanites and so order them to cease disturbing the planet's tectonics, it would not be able to stop the nanites from functioning altogether."

"Because they're self-aware?" Gina asked.

Data raised a finger. "Not yet. But while they are not self-aware at this present moment, to turn them off would require the controlling agent to be in relative proximity to them."

Geordi shook his head. "Wait, Data, you can't be serious." Upon the android's almost indignant look, he added, "I mean, you're suggesting we go down there and switch off these nanites?"

"You agree with my proposal?"

"I think it's mad, Data!" he replied. "But it's the best one we've got."


	15. Abort

The transporter chief's fingers danced across the console, pressing buttons and manipulating switches. He was meant to be off-duty but a crewmember had called in sick, and Chief Charles McCrimmon was called upon to fill in. He tapped his fingers, waiting for the away team to take up their respective places on the transporter platform. He looked up and caught sight of a red uniform and a bald head, and he acknowledged his captain's presence with a small nod.

"At ease," came Picard's smooth response. He eyed up the away team. "I think I'm as content as I'll ever be with this plan of yours, Mr Data," he continued, looking briefly at the android stood beside him. "But this needs to stop once and for all. Starfleet is built on the premise of discovery and peace-keeping, and this mission embodies those values."

Gina felt Captain Picard's gaze on her, but she did not falter. Nor did she cast her gaze over at the other member of the away team, Markeil, who seemed calm as ever. But she had known him a long time, and she knew when he was faking it.

"You are to implement the electromagnetic pulse, which will deactivate the nanites," Picard added.

"However, the electromagnetic pulse is only a short-term solution. The electromagnetic waves will render the nanites only dormant. They have the ability to reboot, if you will, in twelve point two days," Data said. His golden eyes rested on Lieutenant Monroe. He handed her the suitcase, in which was the beacon and relay system that would cause the pulse; she took it, catching his eye for the swiftest of seconds.

"If all goes to plan, the insurgents will realise that their further efforts to destroy your world and create a new one in its place will be in vain. They would likely surrender," Picard finished, and he saw Markeil shift ever so slightly on his feet, as if uncomfortable or unsure.

"We're ready, Sir," Gina said, a nervous smile taking hold of her face.

Picard nodded to Chief McCrimmon, who pulled the lever and watched as the two figures – man and woman, alien and human, enemy and ally – shimmered and then disappeared.

****

She tried to scream, but her voice was taken from her. She looked up, her eyes frantic, her breathing hectic. Then she realised that her left foot was resting on nothing, just air and emptiness. She looked down and saw only darkness. She wondered how far down the drop was, and then she felt someone's hands on her waist, holding her in a steadfast grip. She stumbled forwards, pushing the owner of the hands away. She wiped her uniform down, and little specks of dust and rubble fell onto the orange ground.

"Thanks." She offered Markeil a sheepish smile. "I suppose McCrimmon can't have calibrated the sensors properly," she said lightly.

He laughed weakly, quietly. "I was hardly going to let you fall off the edge, was I?" A pause. "Are you all right?"

"I thought I might've sprained my ankle, but it's okay. Just feels a bit achey. Oh, and I didn't drop the EM device." She set it down.

"Then all's well."

But it wasn't.

She cleared her throat, brought out her tricorder. "Looks like we're about two-hundred feet down," she mused, waving the device around. "And I'm getting high readings of Epsilon radiation. It's a good job Geordi didn't come; he would have fainted already."

"I never asked," he said suddenly, the whites of his eyes glistening, squinted, catching sight of what looked like a hollow in the rock. "Can't all humans put up with this level of radiation?"

"No," she said simply.

"But you can," he pressed.

She sighed. "I was the subject of genetic engineering, when I was younger," she finally said. "Before I was even born."

"I thought eugenics was banned in the Federation."

"It is." She realised that a more in-depth explanation was needed, and she knew they had little time to chat, so she continued hurriedly. "But my homeplanet freed itself from Federation rule."

Federation rule, he mused. There was a very thin line between governance and oppression.

"So, that's why I can withstand rather high concentrations of certain types of radiation."

"I think there's a tunnel down that way," he said abruptly, and she was glad for the change of subject.

Gina frowned and walked over to where Markeil was pointing. Sure enough, it was an entrance to something, and she beckoned him over. He began to start walking into it, when she pulled him back.

"Wait," she whispered, looking down at her tricorder. "We don't know what's down there."

"Surely that makes it more exciting."

"It's not a game, Markeil. We're not children."

"And yet we're bickering."

She bit her lip, thought twice about goading him. "I'm picking up quite a lot of metal deposits. And a lot of heat." She paused, considered, looked at the readings again. "The nanites must be down there." She stepped in front of Markeil and started walking slowly, her steps quiet and measured, wary of treading on or brushing past anything that might cause a disturbance.

The tunnel was small and cramped, and was no higher than five foot. Both of them had to hunker down and walk like apes, Markeil more so. Gina glanced at her tricorder and saw that the temperature was steadily increasing; it went from twenty degrees to thirty and then forty in little more than a few hundred paces. She began to feel the sweat form in small beads on her brow, and it was a chore wiping them out of her eyes.

They emerged what may have been minutes or hours later. Markeil set the EM device down with a huff, sniffed, coughed. Gina turned around to face him and glowered. "Keep quiet," she hissed, and he acquiesced to her request.

"Where are they then?" he asked with a frown, leaning over her shoulder as he tried to get a look at her tricorder.

"I don't know," she said honestly. And then she grinned. "They're here."

"No they're not."

"No, really, they are," she insisted. "But they're so small that we can't see them. The tricorder can. Well, it can sense the signatures, the heat patterns that they give off. I assumed they'd be small, of course. But not invisible."

"There must be millions of them, billions. It's almost like an entire civilisation underground. There are probably more nanites in this one alcove than there are Hypnites on the entire planet above us."

"Probably," she conceded. "The electromagnetic transmitter is still working, I take it?"

He shrugged his shoulders, but upon noticing her glare, he bent down to examine it. "Yes, it's fine."

"This shouldn't take more than half an hour," she said, but thirty minutes was really a long time, a long time in which anything could go wrong. "You'll have to prime the batteries, first, and then perform a serious of test runs to check that everything's running okay."

He gave her a sly smile. "I do know what I'm doing, you know."

"Of course you do," she crooned, looking at him from under her lashes.

"Do you regret it?" he asked, and the question took her by surprise.

She ran her fingers along the tricorder. "Do I regret what?"

"You know what."

She pursed her lips, looked away briefly, at the sheer walls of rock which surrounded them, at the momentary shimmers that she would catch sight of in the rust-coloured soil – the nanites. "I- No. Do you?"

"No. I never would." He struggled to make out her form, her face, in the pitch black of their surroundings, but every now and then he would catch sight of the bright intelligence of her eyes or the glistening white of her teeth.

Gina waved the tricorder over the transmitter, measuring every nuance and part of it closely. She watched as Markeil connected some wires and disconnected others, and then her gaze was drawn to her tricorder. She studied the readouts. "I think we're done."

"All we need to do now is input the frequency and the wavelength."

She saw that he was about to carry out those last tasks, and so she swiftly brushed his hands off the transmitter and started to key in the appropriate commands. But she was stopped, interrupted, and she swore. "Markeil, what the hell-?" She soon fell silent.

He gave her a withering look, his eyes serious pinpoints, his jaw set, his breathing forced. "There's someone here."

She didn't dare offer a response.

The alcove began to shake, to shudder, and there was a sound which became louder and louder as if somethings – or someone – was getting closer and closer. Gina and Markeil tried to pin down the sound, but they were so focused on hiding, on protecting the transmitter, that they had little luck. At least until the maker of the sounds could be seen.

Gina leant forward ever so slightly, barely leaving their hiding place, and she saw six figures standing stoically – each of them with what looked like a phaser – less than five metres in front of her. She didn't need to think much to know what setting the phasers would be on. But as Markeil drew her back to him, she tripped on a pebble and the blood drained from her face. She was as white as a Hypnite now.

A pair of boots came closer and Gina felt a hand on her wrist, yanking her from out of the corner. She composed herself and didn't flinch as she caught sight of the transmitter, still counting down to its moment of emission, still undiscovered.

The person took off his mask, and a lump rose in her throat. "Did you get lost?"

She resented, hated, the patronisation in his tone, but she managed to fight back any urge to lash out. "That's more or less it, yes," she said smoothly. She tried to catch Markeil's eye, to tell his something, for he had not yet been noticed.

"You're not Hypnite, are you?"

"No."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm human."

"Starfleet?"

She pointed to her commbadge. "You came alone?"

She nearly faltered. "Yes."

"No you didn't."

"I-"

He held up a hand. "And what are you doing here?" But he had caught her line of sight and he promptly noticed the piece of technology leant against the wall. He had also noticed Markeil lurching over to it, trying to reach the keypad and give it its final commands. "Restrain him."

Gina tried to lunge forward, but two of the Hypnite's accomplices has since taken hold of her, one behind each shoulder. "Markeil, run!" she hissed, but he didn't listen. Instead, he fumbled with the transmitter's controls, his fingers working tirelessly. But not tirelessly enough, because there was the sudden, blinding flash of a phaser being fired and he crumpled to the ground.

"You bastard," she spat, levelling her gaze at the Hypnite commander. "We were trying to help you!"

"Oh, were you?" The sarcasm dripped from his words. He aimed his phaser at the transmitter and pressed the trigger, and the machine exploded in a display of sparks and flames. "You," he said, pointing to one of his soldiers. "Get rid of that machine."

"Markeil?" Gina whispered, the word falling from her mouth. "Markeil? You're all right, aren't you? Tell me you are. Please."

But there was nothing.

The commander snapped his fingers. "Take them both to the holding cells."


	16. Imprisonment and Inquisition

"You're making a habit of this." Markeil cast his gaze over at Gina; she was in the centre of their cell, pacing and cursing and running her fingers through her dark hair. He reached up to touch his cheek, and it was still rather raw from where he had fallen. The phaser had been set on a high stun and so he had a headache and his clothing was slightly burned on his chest, but he wasn't too bothered.

"Shut up, Markeil," she muttered, her desire to remain professional and calm failing. She picked her head up, looked around, through the invisible forcefield. "I am a Starfleet officer and a citizen of the United Federation of Planets and you will let me out!"

The guard looked at her and snorted. He ignored her.

"Didn't you hear me? You're going to have an interstellar war on your hands if you don't set us free," she continued, unperturbed. "We've been here an hour and you haven't said a single word."

A set of footsteps sounded out across the dingy alcove, and there was the sound of a door opening and shutting. Gina winced and glowered when she saw who it was, the nameless Hypnite commander who had ordered that she and Markeil be imprisoned.

"Now, why would he have to say anything?" the commander inquired, squinting in the darkness as he crossed the space and came to stand just in front of the cell entrance. "He is but a soldier."

"I suppose you're the ringleader?" Markeil piped up, coming to stand beside Gina. He thought about reaching for her hand, but he batted away that idea.

"You could call me that, yes."

"Wait a minute," Gina began slowly, taking a step forward. If she went any further, her foot would have struck the forcefield, and she had no desire to find out what setting the field was on. "I recognise you." Didn't she? She frowned, looked at Markeil.

"He is the Second Legislator," Markeil offered.

She bit her lip. As the title suggested, he was the second most important state official in the Hypnite government. He, the First Legislator and three subordinates formed the Council of the Five. One of those subordinates was Nilal.

"Pakel," Markeil finished.

The commander, Pakel, flashed them a wicked smile. "Oh, I resigned from my position weeks ago."

"What are you now then?" Gina asked, her eyes steadfast on his pale, slender form. She wondered if perhaps she had seen him flinch in his robes. And then she wondered what the purpose of the robes were.

"Most people call me the Second Messiah now."

"The what?" Her mouth fell open, her eyes grew wide. She nearly laughed. She would have done so, under any other circumstances. But she knew what was at stake, what the cost could be, what they could lose, and so she only allowed a slight smirk to form on her lips. "The  _Second Messiah?_  How the hell does that work?"

He stepped back, glanced at a guard. Then he began to walk about, hands draped behind his robed back. "Our world has been decaying for some time now. The war with Thanatos took its toll on our once honourable people."

"War?" Gina echoed, disgusted. "It wasn't a war. It was an occupation. It was slavery. You invaded Thanatos and worked its inhabitants to the ground, to death. You share blood, you share DNA. Hypnites, Thanatosians, you're the same." She was pleading now.

But he wheeled around and she thought for a moment that he would order the forcefield to be switched off, so that he could strangle her there and then. But he only regarded her, his eyes beady and unflinching. "Oh, yes, I know that. I haven't been living under a rock, you know?"

Markeil sniggered. He raised an eyebrow in Commander Pakel's direction. "Then if you know that, how can you possibly believe that what you're doing is right?"

Pakel shot him a glare. "I don't believe it's right. I know it's right. And so will you. Eventually. You are Hypnite, Sir."

Gina shook her head. "But you're killing innocent people. Your people. The people who you once governed."

"I once governed," he echoed. "I have no desire to govern them again. They were tainted, impure, and I want nothing more to do with them." He paused, looked at Markeil. "Tell me, what  _exactly_  do you think I'm doing?"

"I think you're attempting to destroy Hypnos in order to start it over again. Some sort of myopic, idiotic rebirth! You're going to kill the billions of Hypnites on the planet by initiating these natural disasters just so you can repopulate the world with your followers?" Markeil finished.

"Why the seismic disasters?" Gina suddenly asked. "The earthquakes and the volcanoes and the tsunamis?"

"Well, I could hardly detonate a bomb or unleash a chemical weapon, could I?" he retorted. "I think that would've been a bit suspicious. By the Fire God, it seems you can't have brains and beauty."

His rudeness made her angry but his flattery made her feel sick. She put out her arm, in an attempt to prevent Markeil from charging forward and into the forcefield's voltage.

"Lower the forcefield," came Pakel's order.

The guard regarded him. "Your Magnificence?"

"Lower it," he said again, and this time the words were forced out through gritted teeth.

Gina turned, desperate to hold Markeil back, to plead with him to stop, to remind him what they were really there to do. To deploy the EM transmitter. To immobilise the nanites. To prevent the world from destroying itself. But he had already stepped down from the raised floor of the cell. Before she could go after him, the field had reestablished itself.

Markeil and Pakel stood face-to-face in the middle of the room. Gina and the guard watched absently, powerlessly.

"You really do sicken me," Pakel said, his tone of voice severe and hurtful. "You truly care nothing for your people. For your people's future. If I am the Messiah, I suppose you ought to be the Devil."

"Listen to yourself, man!" Markeil snorted. "You're deluded. You and your fifty followers are going to start a new Hypnos? Really?"

"Speaking of which," Pakel began. "I am short of a mate." His gaze drifted over to Gina, who did not falter. "I know she's not Hypnite, and she doesn't much care for my beliefs, but-"

His voice abandoned him as Markeil levelled a fist against his jaw. He had thrust his hand out quickly and abruptly, and the only clue that it was about to happen was Gina's wordless cry. Pakel drew back, wiping the back of his hand across his face and revealing red blood. The audible crunch that the punch had made led the guard to believe that his commander's nose had been broken, and he wasted no time in rushing in and dragging Pakel away from Markeil.

"Leave me be!" Pakel yelled, blood and spittle flying from his mouth.

Gina saw Markeil round on him again. "Markeil, please, stop it! This isn't helping! Please!"

Slowly, gingerly, Markeil staggered backwards.

"Your Magnificence, are you okay?" came the guard's frantic question.

He brushed away the soldier's hands. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Get off me."

"Shall I return the prisoner to his cell?" the soldier asked.

Pakel hesitated slightly. "No. Take him to the Extraction Room. Leave the girl here."

Gina caught Markeil's eye and she knew that he was trying to tell her to keep calm. But she was calm. She had been trained for hostage situations, and she had endured one before. Yet she knew that Markeil himself was not calm. She could see through his facade, and she resented herself for even wondering what would happen to him as he was lead away.

****

He was covered in blood when he returned. His eyes were glassy and it looked as though his legs would fall out from under him. Gina watched, absently, helplessly, as the guards carried Markeil across the room and into the cell, beside her.

"Markeil," she began softly, the word barely formed. "Markeil... what did they do to you?" She gasped, sobbed, batted away the soldiers' hands and tried to gently lower his form onto the floor, but he was heavy and she floundered. And then the upset left her and was replaced by anguish. She shot to her feet and rounded on the guards, as much she could through the forcefield. "You monsters! We're trying to help you. We're not the enemy. Please, listen to me! Surely you're not all as deluded as Pakel?" She fought off the hysterics, reminding herself that she was a Starfleet officer and that people were depending on her.

One of the soldiers, a young Hypnite with a straight nose and curious eyes, regarded her. Then he narrowed his eyes, and Gina forced herself not to wince. "You are in no position to make demands."

"I'm not making demands, you idiot!" she snapped. "I'm pleading with you. You need to stop this. Stop using the nanites to cause these seismic disasters"

"And why's that?" the other guard inquired. He was swinging his phaser idly in his hand. Gina saw the other guard catch his eye; they were both quiet for a while.

She sighed, clapped a hand to her forehead exasperatedly. "Because nanites are living, breathing creatures. They're sentient and they're growing. It'll only be a matter of time before they realise that they've been used. They will tear this planet apart."

"Good," the second guard said. His tone of voice was abrupt and harsh.

Gina bit her tongue.  _"No,_  I mean it. This planet will collapse in on itself. I'm not just talking about the surface. I'm talking about all of it."

"Gina,  _leave it,"_  came a muffled voice.

She snapped her head around and stared, wide-eyed, at Markeil.

"Oh, thank God! You're all right," she said, overjoyed, her words becoming overshadowed by sobs. She hunkered down and held his face; her hand was soon sticky and red from all of the blood. She attempted to wipe it away, but ultimately, she was just glad that he had woken up.

"Of course I'm all right." But the cough that racked through his system and his grimace of pain said otherwise.

She managed to tear her gaze away from him, though she still held his hand, and she looked up at the soldiers. "Please, you've got to listen to me. I'm Starfleet. You can trust me. Your world is close – was close – to being accepted into the Federation."

"What would we want with your heathen Federation?" the first soldier remarked.

"Because the Federation can help you. Despite all you've done – all your great Messiah's done – the Federation is still prepared to help you deal with the nanites and save your world before it's too late," she said.

The young soldier seemed to be considering it, to be thinking over her words, and a glimmer of hope fluttered in Gina's chest. He stepped over to her, regarded her firmly. "I will request the Messiah's presence."

"Meval, you can't-" the other guard started

"I'm in charge, Jural."

She was about to thank him as he turned to leave, but then she caught Markeil's watchful gaze on her and so she was silent.

But the guard was true to his word, and he soon returned with Pakel accompanying him.

"Ah, my dear prisoners. I trust you are keeping well?"

Gina glowered at him, gestured to Markeil, who had managed to haul himself into a seated position. "What do you think?"

"Yes, well, that's enough of the pleasantries," Pakel said shortly. "My soldier here tells me that you have a persuasive argument that you wish to share with me."

She opened her mouth but he held up a hand. "There's no need to tell me. I know what you're going to say." A sly smile took over his features. "Oh, the Federation is good and kind and it'll help lead you and your people away from danger. The Federation will protect you even after all of the wrongs you've done."

She didn't take kindly to his impersonation of her, but she was reminded of her duty, and so she controlled her indignance.

"I'm a busy man," he continued. "Being a God is such hard work. But it's all worth it, isn't it? Hypnos will soon be the glittering jewel in the galaxy's crown once more, as it was so many years ago. Thanatos will waver under our might, and there will at last be a power great enough to challenge Starfleet."

Gina reigned in a swear, and settled for sighing.

"If I'm boring you, I can always prepare some more exhilarating pasttime," Pakel suggested.

She did not recoil. "I look forward to finding out what it is."

He laughed. "You say that now." He then nodded to the guard, the young man who had brought him in, and ordered that the forcefield be lowered. "Meval, keep your phaser trained on the man. We don't want any nasty surprises, do we?"

Gina cast her gaze over at Markeil, who was drifting in and out of consciousness. He met her eye. "Gina, don't."

"I've got no choice, Markeil," she said solemnly. She was about to step out of the cell when she turned back and kissed him; as she pressed her lips to his, she could taste the metal tang of his blood and the salt of her own tears. Then, quickly, gingerly, she drew something out of her shoe, a small metal object. She placed her hand over it and handed it to Markeil, making sure that its shiny surface did not catch what little light there was in the cave.

Then she drew away and and was marched out of the complex, with Pakel at the front and the

soldier behind her, momentarily jabbing the barrel of his phaser into her back.

When she had gone and the remaining guard watching him had looked away, Markeil opened his closed hand and saw what Gina had left him; her commbadge.


	17. No Such Luck

**A/N: Slight non-con coming up.**

Markeil wondered if his eyes would ever adjust to the darkness. Then again, he mused further, he didn't think he'd want to stay long enough to find out. He had mapped out a plan in his head; all he needed to do was try and make use of the commbadge that Gina had left him. He tried not to think of her, to think of what might have been happening, because he knew it would hinder him. But it was difficult, very difficult. He wonddered if perhaps he had heard her scream, but then he reminded himself that the cave was echoey and even the smallest of sounds would be amplified a hundred times over.

He was crouched in the far corner of the cell, the furthest away from the guard that he could be. Every now and then, the guard would look up and their eyes would meet, and Markeil half-considered bargaining with the man. After all, they were both the same species, weren't they? They had shared the same troubles, the same sufferings. His mind was cast back to the first day that he and Gina had met, all of those years ago. When she had told him about her own planet's history, how despite the peacekeeping missions humans now embarked upon, they once fought with each other over the silliest of differences – over skin colour and religion and beliefs. Markeil knew that his people were, deep down, the same. The majority of them had learned to embrace the Thanatosians, and the Thanatosians had in turn begun to forgive their oppressors. But Markeil wasn't sure if the insurgents would ever change their ways, or if the rest of the Hypnites even accepted them back into their society.

He looked away from the guard and back down at the commbadge. It was small and cold and very intricate. He had managed to prise off the back panel, which revealed a few slim wires, a circuit board and a speaker. There was so little light in the cell, in the whole complex, and his fingers were stiff and achey. He tried taking out some of the tiny wires, and swapping them around, but they misbehaved, like a dozen miniscule serpents writhing and wriggling.

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, stuffed the dismantled commbadge in his shoe, and crossed his legs. It wouldn't work. He needed something with more power, something to amplify the commbadge's pitiful signal. Even above the surface of a regular planet, it would have struggled to reach the  _Enterprise,_  nevermind a hundred feet underground on a planet swamped in radiation.

****

"Why don't you tell me about Starfleet?"

She ignored his question, her attention far too occupied with where she was being taken. The guard's phaser was dug into her back, and her spine was starting to ache. Her already swollen feet pained her with every step she took, until at least Pakel came to a stop. He keyed in some sort of code; Gina tried to look and memorise it, but it was too complex, and the guard had grabbed her head and she was forced to turn away.

The door did not slide open as Gina had expected to. Instead, Pakel pushed it open laboriously, the metal hinges creaking and squeaking as if in protest. When the soldier had removed his harsh hand from her neck, Gina glanced into the room. It was slightly lighter, but only marginally so, than the rest of the underground complex, and so she could make out the two chairs sitting in the corner.

"Wait outside," Pakel gruffly ordered the soldier, who regarded him quizzically.

"Your Magnificence, I really think I ought to-"

Pakel held up a silencing hand. "You should think twice about questioning me."

But Meval did not give in. "Sir, really, I wish to keep guard."

Pakel sighed and Gina nearly gasped as he reached down to what she guessed was a utility belt. He drew out a phaser and aimed it at the soldier. And then Pakel smiled grimly, and the slightly shaken Meval bowed his head dutifully and took up a position outside the door.

"I hate to say it," Pakel began once the door had closed behind him and he and Gina were alone in the dingy room. "But I rather admire your courage."

"Then why don't you admire my reasons for that courage?" she urged, looking him in the eye and daring him to answer her.

A sly laugh escaped his lips. "You are demanding, aren't you? And rather passionate."

She shivered but remained unflinching. She sat down in one of the chairs, not caring if he had not invited her to do so. Again, his expression was unreadable, and he came to sit opposite her. They regarded each other for a while, each one of them measuring the other's face, and as much as they could, their intentions.

"Tell me about the man in the cell."

"You mean Markeil?"

"If that is his name, then yes, I mean Markeil."

"He is a Hypnite, one of your people, and he holds a position in the Senate." She saw that Pakel's face had grown darker, sinister, and so she quickly composed something further. "But he's a good man. He only wants what's best for Hypnos, and that's including you."

"You have known him a long time?"

She bit her lip. "I- Yes."

"You paused. Why?"

"Because... I knew him very well many years ago, and this is the first time I've seen him in a long time."

"Are you lovers?"

"I-" she began but trailed off. If that question had been asked a few days ago, a week ago, she would have been able to answer that categorically with a negative. But the question had been asked now, and she wasn't sure what to say. "We care for each other," she settled on saying. "The two of use were chosen for this mission and we have our reasons for carrying it out."

"And what are those reasons?"

"I am serving my captain," she said simply. "It is the Federation's wish that Hypnos and Thanatos be reconciled."

"So that they will also be slaves."

"What? No!" she shot back, indignant. "So that they – you – can better themselves."

He rubbed his chin, his beady eyes met hers. "And what is Markeil's reason?"

"I suppose he wants to ingratiate himself back into the hearts of his people," she said, thinking it over. "He wants to get rid of the corruption and the lies that occupy the heart of this world's government." She would have said more, but she felt something. Her gaze cast downwards, and she saw a pale, sinewy hand – his hand – on her thigh. She crossed her legs, forcing him to retract his hand.

"I thought you wanted to talk about Starfleet?" she inquired, her blue eyes bright and her red mouth a straight line.

He laughed grimly and the muddy walls seemed to shake. "Tell me again about your relationship with the other prisoner."

"Why?"

He leant forward, elbows resting on his knees, and their faces were mere feet apart. "Because I am telling you to. Or perhaps I should help you. I'll tell you something about Starfleet. I know that their flagship is the  _USS Enterprise,_  on which you serve as an Engineering officer." His gaze fell to her shoulders and chest and she folded her arms. "And by the look of your pips, you're a lieutenant. Not bad for your age."

She stared at him, concerned that he knew that much, and he apparently sensed her worry. "I've had my people look you up. We've had dealings with certain... parties who are privy to these things."

"The Orion Syndicate," she thought, and she knew she was right.

He flashed her a smile, and his teeth were a brilliant white, whiter even than his ghostly skin. "But don't worry, I'm not planning on selling you. You'd fetch a high price, of course, but you're too precious to be sold to those animals."

She tucked a stray strand of her behind her ear.

"I also know that the  _Enterprise,_  magnificent as it is, does not have scanner which are capable of reaching this far through a planet's crust. That's not to mention the Epsilon radiation," he continued.

She tried not to let her face fall, but it was too hard, and before she knew it, she had stood up and was facing away from him. She quickly dabbed at her tears, and composed herself. When she turned around, he was standing only a metre from her, and the room suddenly felt very cold. Her back was pressed against the wall, damp and uneven as it was, and her breathing became quite haggard. He leant forward and his nose brushed hers; she swallowed. Then she felt a hand grip her wrist and pin her to the wall; the other one was moving slowly down the side of her body, past her breasts and her hips.

She had the urge to retch, but she knew nothing would come up, because she hadn't eaten in a day. Just as his lips were about to cover hers, and his body was pressed against her body, there was a rap at the door.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Your Magnificence, but the Professor is asking to see you."

Gina had never been so glad to hear Meval's voice.

Pakel swore and swaggered away, and he strode out through the door. She was standing there in silence, only to be broken from her reverie by Meval beckoning her outside into the corridor. She wiped her mouth and calmed her shaking limbs, and just before Meval led her back to her cell, back to Markeil, she caught sight of a peephole in the door to the room that she had just left.

"Thank you," she whispered to Meval as he turned off the forcefield and she returned to Markeil.


	18. Know Your Enemy

Markeil did not let his eyes leave her as she was led into the cell, and she sat beside him. "What happened?" he asked, and despite his efforts, the concern was evident in his voice.

She threw him a small smile. "Nothing happened."

"Did he ask you anything? Does he know about the  _Enterprise?_  About why we're here?"

She shook her head and sighed. "He knows it's in orbit and he knows it's not capable of contacting us."

A silence. "Did anything else happen?"

She looked away.

"Gina." His voice was firm and she knew she couldn't ignore it. "Did he do anything to you? Did he touch you?"

She opened her mouth, closed it. "No, Markeil. He didn't."

"The  _Enterprise_  might not be able to contact us," he began again, and she drew closer to him. "But," he continued, lowering his voice. "We might be able to contact them."

"You got it, then?"

He smiled wryly. "Of course I got it. You gave it to me."

She scoffed and watched closely as he drew the broken commbadge out of his shoe. "Did you get far?"

"Yes and no." Upon noticing her curious face, he continued." Well, I know that it would work... but we need a bigger power source. He commbadge just simply isn't powerful enough to communicate with the  _Enterprise."_

"Even if I input the  _Enterprise's_  access codes?"

He nodded grimly. "Even if you do that."

"So I guess we're back on square one." She slumped back against the wall of the cell and felt Markeil put his arm around her, drawing her against his shoulder. He kissed her on the forehead, and the two of them drifted off to sleep.

But they did not sleep for long. The compound started shaking, rubble started crumbling from the walls, the ground beneath their feet became unsteady. Markeil shot upright, and Gina followed suit. They met each other's eye and realised instantly what was happening.

"Meval!" Gina exclaimed, staring wildly at the young Hypnite guard stood outside the cell. "That's you're name, isn't it? It's the nanites, they're doing this!" Another vibration shook the compound, and Gina fell against Markeil. He caught her before she could fall, but her weight pushed him over, and they hit the rocky ground with a thud.

Meval grunted, shook his head, looked over at his comrade. Jural threw him a puzzled look.

"For the love of the Fire God!" Markeil groaned, satisfied that Gina was once again steady and that he had no broken limbs. He got to his feet, marched over to the forcefield, heard it buzz. "You have to stop this, now! Give me five minutes alone with you're goddamn Messiah and this will all be sorted out."

Gina saw the determined look on his face, and she clambered over to him urgently, tugging at his sleeve. "Markeil, calm down."

He shook her hand off his arm. "I shouldn't have let him take you away."

"That doesn't matter now," she argued. "What matters is that we prevent another one of these disasters."

The shaking at last dissipated.

"The tectonic disturbance," Meval began. "It came from the east."

Gina stared at Markeil. "What's in the east?"

Markeil pinched his nose, pursed his lips. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "The capital city."

His voice had been so very quiet, but she had heard him.

"Over fifty million people," Jural murmured.

Meval's gaze was empty. "Including my family."

Gina wondered what she should do, say. He was a Hypnite, an insurgent, and so he was the enemy. He was her enemy. Surely? And yet he had saved her from Pakel's advances, and he seemed so young. He was so young. She doubted if she could see the shadow of stubble on his face, let alone the lines that came with age.

"They might be all right," she said eventually, her voice sounding as if it was not hers.

"And they might not," Meval snapped. He turned away, sniffed, wiped his eyes, and Gina saw that Jural was watching him closely. She wondered if perhaps the soldier had wanted to comfort his comrade, but perhaps he was too embarrassed.

Jural's communicator beeped and he cleared his throat. "The Messiah requests my presence." Before he left, he placed a gentle hand on Meval's shoulder.

"Don't think I'm going to leave you two alone in here," he muttered.

"We weren't thinking that," Markeil said shortly.

"Oh, I know what you're thinking. You think I'm young and naive and weak."

Gina shook her head. "We don't think you're young. We know you're young."

"But you've naive for believing this web of lies that Pakel's been spinning you," Markeil said, his voice suddenly urgent. "A soldier does not just have to follow his commanding officer's orders unblinkingly, unquestioningly. He also has to fight for what he believes in."

"I-"

"What do you believe in, Meval?" Gina asked. Her tone was soft, approachable, almost maternal.

He spoke and began to stammer again, until he took a deep breath and repeated himself more elegantly. "I believe in securing a better future for Hypnos."

His response had been so rehearsed, so manufactured, that Gina half-wondered if he would complete it by stamping his foot and giving a salute. "What kind of future would it be if your family, your loved ones, aren't in it?"

"They were traitors," Meval stuttered, falling over his words. "If they had followed the true path, the path of the Second Messiah, they would be down here with me. Safe. The earthquake would have passed them by." He continued a bit more, but his sentences became more and more incoherent, and he eventually gave up.

Silence engulfed the compound for what may have been minutes or hours.

"Will you be wanting a change of clothes?"

The question took both Gina and Markeil by surprise, and neither of them really knew how to answer.

"We're fine," Markeil said.

Gina looked down at herself; she had been wearing her Starfleet uniform for days now, and she certainly wanted to wash and change. "Actually, we will."

Meval nodded and unlocked some sort of storage locker. Out of it, he pulled two jumpsuits, both of them black. He deactivated a small portion of the forcefield and pushed the bundles of clothes through it. When he had reactivated the holding cell's integrity, he watched as they picked up their respective clothing.

Gina cleared her throat and he finally turned around. She slipped out of her shoes and peeled off her Starfleet uniform; she was thankful for her undershirt. Markeil helped her zip up the back of the jumpsuit, and she smiled when he kissed her neck.

Markeil then set about unlacing his boots. He took the right one off without hassle, but when the left one came off, he hadn't been paying attention and so didn't take the commbadge to one side. It rolled out of his discarded shoe and landed with a clang. He cursed under his breath, and Meval turned around. It didn't take long for the soldier's gaze to focus on the strange bit of metal on the floor of the cell.

"What is that?"

"What is what?"

"That," Meval repeated, his voice tight, pointing to the commbadge, with its wires sticking out.

Gina rubbed her forehead.

"It's nothing," Markeil added urgently.

Meval raised an eyebrow.

"It's a communications device," she said quietly, ignoring Markeil's glare in her direction. "We've been trying to contact my ship."

"To what end?" Meval inquired, tapping his foot. He had taken his gun out of its holster and was pointing it at them.

"To see if they could beam us up," Gina replied. "Will you tell Pakel? I mean, the Messiah?"

"No."

Markeil narrowed his eyes. He stooped down, picked the commbadge up, and held it out on his palm for Meval to see it.

"I'm willing to pretend that I didn't see, or hear, any of that."

Gina and Markeil stared at him. "Why?" she asked.

"Don't ask questions because I won't give you any answers." He left.


	19. Changing Faces

It was a full six hours before Meval walked into the room again. Through the window in the door, Gina had just about been able to make out the figure of Jural; she wondered what the two of them had talked about before Meval came in to guard them.

"Back again so soon?" Markeil asked, but his tone was not chiding. He was tired, hungry, and his muscles ached.

Meval gave him a grim smile. "I'm going to deactivate a section of the forcefield. Through the window, you will pass me the communications device. Any funny business, and I'll destroy it here and now, and then I'll tell Pakel about it."

With the forcefield down, Markeil gingerly handed Meval the commbadge and snatched his hand back inside the cell when the field was reinstated.

Meval weighed the device in his hand for a moment. "Surely you knew that this communicator is far too weak to be able to establish a connection with your ship? The planet's radiation, the fact that we're underground-"

"We know that now," Gina said. "But it was worth a try."

"You'll need a bigger power source."

"Why are you telling us?" Markeil asked.

"Because I intend to help you."

"But why?" she pressed, her eyes wide.

"Because you've remedied my blindness, my foolishness." He spoke smoothly, assuredly. "I became a follower of the Messiah because it gave me a sense of worth. But he's killed – murdered – my family. I only have one other person to turn to. His name is Nilal."

"He is a great friend of mine, also," Markeil said solemnly.

"And a great man he is, too," Gina added. "He is on my ship. The  _Enterprise."_

"You could take me to him?"

"We could. If we had access to a larger power source," she finally replied, despite her reservations and despite Markeil's disapproving face.

Meval shoved the commbadge in his pocket. "I will do what is necessary."

He was gone in a flash, and without further words. The door clanged shut behind him, and Gina and Markeil were once again left with only each other for company.

"This is mad."

Gina sighed, sat down on the hard ground and crossed her legs. "I know. But it's our only chance."

"And if it doesn't work?" Markeil pressed. He turned on his heel, facing away from her.

She shrugged and picked at the threads of her jumpsuit. "I don't know, Markeil. I really don't know."

"I mean, we don't even know if we can trust him," he said suddenly, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Listen to me, Markeil," she began firmly. "Meval is our only option. Pakel rules with an iron fist, you've seen that. Meval's risking his career and his life for us."

"That's what he said."

She groaned, harrumphed, pressed a weary hand to her forehead. "I know. I know."

"But if it's good enough for Starfleet, it's good enough for me," he finally said, his mouth a straight line. He turned to look at her.

She smiled softly, wistfully. "I bet I look a mess."

But he shook his head and hunkered down beside her, taking her hand in his. He held her face for a while, stroking the smooth skin. "No, you still look perfect. You always do to me. I'm the one who's dishevelled."

Her eyes glinted mischievously. "Well, you could do with a shave. And a shower."

He rolled his eyes and sat next to her, playing idly with her hair.

"Did you ever really think about joining Starfleet?"

He pursed his lips, considered. "I did, briefly. But it wouldn't have been right. I might have been assigned to the  _Enterprise,_  and, well, that would have been awkward for you and so hard for me."

She let out a shallow laugh. "You wouldn't have been assigned to the  _Enterprise,_  not if you were just fresh from the Academy. It's the flagship. Besides, after the three years that you would've been in the Academy, I might have moved to another ship anyway."

"You didn't though, did you? You're still there."

She looked down at her hands. "I am." She looked away briefly. "I told you I'd been offered another commission, on a ship called  _Voyager._  But all of my friends are on the  _Enterprise_ – Data, Geordi, Deanna. And I've got so much respect for Captain Picard."

"You miss them?"

"It's only been a few days. I don't miss them." Then her face grew dark and her eyes grew wet with tears. She tried to dab at them discreetly with her fingertips, but Markeil had noticed.

"What is it?"

"I miss Jack," she murmured. "I miss my son. I think a part of me misses Alex." She lifted her knees up and bowed her head into her chest, curling up into a ball as if it that would protect her from the harshness of reality. "Sometimes I think, perhaps, that I'd prefer to be down here, in this hole, so many metres from the surface and so far away from the galaxy. But I can't forget my son, and I can't escape what I'll put my husband through when I tell him the truth."

The door opened, and Gina wiped her eyes and brushes her hair out of her eyes. Markeil looked up warily as Meval stepped in to the room.

"My efforts were unsuccessful."

Her face fell even further, and she managed to stand up. "What do you mean?"

"The communicator you gave me... it burnt out when I tried to connect it to the main power console. The circuitry was completely fried," he said.

Markeil swore and kicked the side of the cell; pebbles and bits of dust came cascading down the wall like a mini landslide.

"Thank you for trying," Gina said, trying to be of some comfort. "You put yourself in so much danger, for our sake."

"No, I didn't do it for  _you."_

She wasn't affronted, but confused, by his reply.

"Then who did you do it for?" Markeil asked gruffly.

"I did it for my friend, for Nilal."

Markeil seemed to perk up at the mention of Nilal. "Why?"

"Because Pakel holds some deep resentment for Nilal. Ten years ago, there was an election. Nilal was elected to the position, and Pakel lost. They both sit on the Council of the Five, and I can only imagine how awkward council meetings must be. Now that Nilal's leading this 'rebellion' against our – I mean, Pakel's – movement, it seems that the only thing Pakel wants as much as he wants the end of this Hypnos, is the end of one of its leaders."

"We've got to warn him," Markeil said urgently.

Gina put a hand on his arm, momentarily forgetting about her own tribulations. "We can't."

"I had a look at that EM beacon of yours. It was completely destroyed by the phaser-fire. If only you hadn't been caught, my family might still be here," he said, but his throat didn't catch and his words remained bravely spoken. "But... wait a minute... that wasn't the only thing you brought, was it?"

Gna shook her head. "No. I had a tricorder with me."

Markeil nodded, clicked his fingers, and a smile very nearly broke on his lips. "That will be powerful enough to send a message to the  _Enterprise."_

"The only problem is that a tricorder isn't designed to send out information. It's designed to pick up readings from other things," Gina finished, and whatever semblance of a smile there was on Markeil's face promptly disappeared.

"It will be in the holding bay. If I bring it to you, can you reconfigure it to contact your ship?" Meval asked.

Gina looked caught, confused. She had no idea if she could do what had been asked of her. She had never done anything like that before. She was a Starfleet officer, an engineer, but she couldn't perform magic.

"Yes, she can," Markeil said, looking her in the eye. "If you're good enough for the Federation's flagship, you can certainly do this."


	20. New Wave

They had been in the cell, underground, separated from the  _Enterprise_  and from civilisation, for what felt like months. It had been three days. Gina was sure that Captain Picard and the crew would've been worrying about she and Markeil. After all, the mission was only supposed to have taken half an hour. But Picard was a cautious man, and a patient man, and Gina knew that he would rather wait an issue out rather than charge in with all guns blazing.

"I've been thinking," she began, casting her gaze over at Markeil, who was picking his teeth with a piece of cutlery; Pakel had been good enough to provide them with forks to eat their stale bread. "Perhaps we shouldn't be trying to contact the  _Enterprise."_

He stared at her, wide-eyed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She sighed, raised a hand. "I know, I know, it sounds stupid. But wouldn't we be putting Captain Picard in an impossible position? By holding us hostage, Pakel has declared war on the Federation, and that's a war that Pakel definitely can't win. That doesn't mean that my ship, my friends, will ge out unscathed, you know as well as I that Pakel won't entertain a diplomatic solution."

He ran a hand through his greasy hair. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I think we should try and rig up some sort of rudimentary electromagnetic transmitter."

His mouth curved in a bitter smile. "Oh, Gina, we can't do that."

"Why not?" She continued talking when she saw that he was about to interrupt. "I've got the technical skills, and you know this planet inside out, don't you? That's not even to mention the help that Meval can give us."

He shook his head, raised a damning hand. "But we have to tell the  _Enterprise_  about what Pakel's got planned where Nilal's concerned."

"We don't know what Pakel's going to do about Nilal."

"He's my friend, Gina. My closest friend."

"I know, but-"

"When you were... living with me, and you were separated from your friend Data, you left my bed to go and see if he was faring well," he said briskly. "This is exactly the same."

She knew it was, and she also knew that she shouldn't argue. But she did. "Look, say we did manage to form a communication link with Captain Picard, what would we say? That we've been taken captive? He's probably gathered that by now. There would be no point in explaining that there's a possible threat against Nilal's life, because that's exactly what it is. Possible. And Nilal's a smart guy; he knows all sorts of people. I'm sure he's already on high alert."

At last, a sigh from Markeil. He took her face in his hands, surveyed her beauty, and kissed her on the forehead. "You're right. I never did think I'd get that commbadge working anyway."

With that, she drew him over to her and kissed him fully on the lips. His mouth was on her lips, her cheek, her neck, her collarbone; he loved her and he wanted her.

"Markeil," she hissed, trying to push him away. "There's someone at the door."

He slunk off her and found himself looking at the young face and determined eyes of Meval.

"I-" he stuttered, his cheeks flushing pale pink, He came closer, lowered the forcefield ever so slightly, and handed Gina something in a brown case.

She opened it and smiled, wanting to throw her arms around Meval. She cursed the forcefield.

"I've brought you the tricorder," he continued. "What do you need to do with it?" His voice was hushed.

Gina hunkered down and examined the tricorder. She turned it on and the little screens and diodes lit up; at least it was still working. The two men hovered over her, and she waved them away. She switched the device onto 'science' mode.

"It looks like it's practically on full power," she observed. "If I can get into its energy matrix, I should be able to set it to overload."

Meval raised an eyebrow. "Overload? Why would you want it to do that?"

"Well, an electromagnetic pulse will be one of the byproducts when an electronic device suffers a power meltdown," she said.

"But how will that help you contact your ship?" From the look on his face, it seemed as though Meval knew the answer to his question already. "You're not trying to speak to your captain, are you? You lied, and I was foolish enough to trust you. I thought you were going to warn Nilal."

Gina tried to shush him, to calm him down. "No, no, no," she said quickly, setting the tricorder to one side. "That was the original plan, honestly. But by telling my captain about the situation, we would only have been burdening him with a problem that he couldn't fix."

"He's a captain, a soldier. You are his responsibility," Meval retorted.

Gina wondered if he would reach for his gun.

"But I'm not," Markeil replied, and Gina was thankful for his intervention. "Look, Meval, I'm Nilal's friend, too. I care for him, of course I do. But we've got more of a chance of saving him, and our world, if we get this EM pulse out there and knock out those nanites."

Gina's hands had wandered to the tricorder and she was putting the finishing touches on her plan. Then her eyes rested on Meval's phaser. To her surprise, he unhooked it from his utility belt and handed it to her.

"You'll need this," he said simply. "That tricorder wouldn't be strong enough."

She gave him a grateful smile, a smile which was soon replaced by a frown. She opened up the barrel of the phaser and found the battery pack, which she managed to disconnect and rewire into the back of the tricorder. "But it's still not going to create a big enough shockwave."

"Oh, so it's all hopeless, then?" Markeil muttered.

"No," she said quickly, without thinking. "What we need is a bigger power source. One that would be able to distribute the field almost instantly. One that's wired into this complex."

"Like the central computer?" Markeil offered.

 _"Exactly_  like that."

Markeil got to his feet and looked at her. "Have you entered the correct frequency of the wave?"

She nodded, gingerly handed him the tricorder.

"Meval, I need you to let me out of here and direct me to the central computer."

But he felt Gina's hand on his arm, her slender fingers curling around his wrist. "Markeil, no."

"They're my people, Gina," he said, without looking back. "And I'm going to do this."

"No, you're not." It wasn't Gina speaking that time. Markeil glowered at Meval. "Let us out."

Meval shook his head. "I can't do that. For too long I've stood by while that madman Pakel commits genocide." And with that, he reached through the safe part of the forcefield and took the device from Markeil.

Gina despaired. "Meval, you can't. You'll be noticed. You're putting yourself in so much danger."

"I can't be in any more danger than the rest of my people will be if I don't do anything."

"I'll do it," she said. "Give the tricorder to me."

"No. This is my fight and my world."

****

Geordi La Forge furrowed his brow. The  _USS Enterprise's_  powerful impulse drive was humming contently and the warp core was stable. He was staring at the main console in Engineering, and he wondered if his VISOR needed fixing.

"Data, can you come and take a look at this?"

He had barely finished asking the question when the android officer appeared beside him. "Of course, Geordi. For one point three minutes, your facial expression and body language have been indicating that you are perplexed, confused, perturbed."

"Just take a look at this," Geordi continued. "It looks like some sort of energy surge. I would've thought it was just another volcanic eruption or earthquake, but it's coming from the Silver Wastelands."

"No seismic rifts have been detected there so far," Data said. He regarded the readouts more closely.

"But that's one strange energy signature, Data. If only there wasn't so much radiation. It's distorting all of our scanners." He sighed, rubbed his temple. "I think it's an electromagnetic pulse. But not the one that our transmitter would have sent out."

"Lieutenant Monroe and Senator Markeil must have built a rudimentary electromagnetic device," Data surmised.

"The nanites... they must've stopped. They're out, dormant."

"Geordi, our research indicates that they will, in fact, only be dormant for a week."

"Oh, Data!" he huffed, shaking his head, a smile already broadening on his lips. "I knew they were still alive!"

"It certainly is surprising, but nonetheless welcome, news," Data finished.


	21. Fallen

A shiver racked through her body, but she wasn't cold. She was worrying, fretting. Everything in her mind concerned Meval.

"You're worrying."

When Gina looked up, she realised that her breathing was haggard, and she saw that Markeil's blue gaze was focused firmly on her. She cleared her throat, paced about in the small cell. "Of course I'm worrying," she snapped. "No, I'm sorry, Markeil, I didn't mean to take it out on you."

He only smiled. "Nevermind." A pause. "How do you think he's doing? Meval, I mean."

"Oh, I wish there was some way of knowing," she murmured. "If only we could hack into the security systems feed, we could check the closed-circuit television."

"Ah, but we'd need to be free from this cell, first."

She suddenly had an idea. "Do you hear that? Or, rather, do you not hear that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Hear what?"

"That," she said again, rather unhelpfully. She came to the edge of the cell, only one step away from the forcefield. "Usually, there's this sort of buzzing. Or humming. I'm not sure how to describe it."

"Wait a second... I think you might be on to something."

"But it's not there any more. The only time it's not there is when..." She faded off as her words deserted her.

"When the forcefield's down!" he exclaimed.

She squealed, threw herself into his arms and they kissed. Then, gingerly, she stuck her foot out of the cell perimeter. She didn't get an electric shock. Slowly, gently, she stepped out of the cell, and Markeil followed suit.

"He's done it! The nanites, they've been stopped! And the tectonic disturbances, too!" she suddenly declared. "Meval, he's connected our EM transmitter to the complex's main computer. The system must have gone haywire, and everything that it controls – the forcefields, the defences, the communications network – have all been short-circuited."

"Gina." Markeil's voice was grave, his eyes were unblinking and his jaw was firm. "This is too obvious. Pakel would know. Which means... it's only a matter of time before Meval is found out."

She had already left him, and Markeil was forced to jog in order to catch up with her; they left through the room's broken door. They found themselves once again in the cavernous hallway; it was like a rabbit's warren or a fox's den, full of hidey-holes and secret places. There was no telling where one path ended and another began. It was also very, very dark. Spiders and worms crawled and slithered about underfoot and overhead, and the walls seemed to crumble at the slightest of touches.

"This is hopeless," Markeil muttered after a time. "These caves could go on for miles, and we've no idea where he is."

"We can't  _leave_  him, Markeil," she retorted. "He's risked his life for your planet and my ship."

"I know, but it will be pointless us getting ourselves killed. We'd be better off just trying to get to some place with less radiation, somewhere closer to the surface, where the  _Enterprise_  will be able o get a better lock on our positions," he continued.

She sighed, shook her head, blew air through her lips.

He reached out for her hand. "Gina, listen to me. Meval knew what he was doing when he offered to help us. Look, I think that tunnel looks familiar. Let's head down there. I'm fairly certain that we went down there when we first got here. "It's uphill, so that's a good start. Come on." He let go of her hand and started to head off in that direction.

"Wait," Gina hissed, and he knew that he had to stop. "I  _think_  I can see a light down there." She pointed to the tunnel opposite the one which Markeil had been talking about.

"Gina, that's the wrong direction," he whispered.

"But, light, Markeil," she carried on. "Maybe it's daylight. We might as well."

He sighed and acquiesed. They trudged down the tunnel, feeling the gritty ground shift about with every step, feeling the air get hotter and stickier. And then their faces fell when they realised that it wasn't daylight. It wasn't even moonlight.

The section of tunnel which they found themselves in was not purely made out of cave wall. Slabs of rock and mounds of earth were interspersed with computer terminals and relay devices. Gina narrowed her eyes and saw something that she recognised – the tricorder. It was hooked up to the largest computer in the room. She also saw someone that she recognised, and she was about to call out his name, when another figure appeared out of nowhere.

"Meval, run!" she shouted, as the young Hypnite stood up and stepped away from the tricorder. He had evidently been checking up on its progress. In mere seconds, his expression went from one of pride to one of pain, anguish, distress, as he lowered his gaze. His dark eyes found the source of his torment, a gaping hole in his chest.

Markeil charged forward and swiped the smoking phaser from Pakel's firm hand. And then Gina did all that she could do, falling down beside Meval, attempting to hold his head. He was coughing up blood and spluttering out words.

"Shh..." she whispered, smoothing his bloodied hair against his forehead as a mother would a child. She was watching his chest rise and fall, steadily, and then not so steadily.

"Tell-"

"Don't speak now," she said softly. "I hope you know what you've done. You've stopped the nanites, you've stopped Pakel. You've saved your people, Meval."

The ghost of a smile broke out on his pale lips.

"You need to stay with me, Meval," she said, suddenly urgent. "No, no, no, don't close your eyes. Please."

"Tell Jural that I..."

She listened out for the rest of that sentence, that request, but she eventually realised that she would never know what it was. She held her breath, brought her shaking hand to her forehead and held it there for a moment. Then she reached out and closed Meval's eyes.

Rage threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to denounce Pakel, to snatch the phaser from Markeil and aim it at the man's head. She wanted to pull the trigger and watch as he got vapourised. She wanted that, surely? No. She shook her head. She didn't.

"You have a communicator? A portable one, yes?" Her tone of voice was quick and sharp, and her eyes were daggers as they focused on Pakel.

Markeil adjusted his grip on the man and kicked him when he refused to answer Gina's question.

"I... Yes."

"Where is it?"

"On that counter, there." He half-heartedly pointed.

She picked it up and keyed in the  _Enterprise's_  frequency.

There was static. A lot of static. And it was all that they could hear for minutes.

"This is-" The voice was distant and distorted but so very familiar. The brusqueness of it, the firmness of it. Gina knew who it was.

_"This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship_ USS Enterprise."

He had barely finished the sentence when Gina butted in. "Captain! Oh, am I glad to hear you! It's Lieutenant Monroe. Senator Markeil and I, we're both fine, and the beacon – well, a different one – has been set off. The nanites are dormant."

She could not see it, but a small smile appeared on Picard's face.  _"Well done, Lieutenant. I presume you'll be wanting to return to my ship?"_

"Oh, yes, Captain, more than anything!"

_"Then standby. The Chief will have you beamed up in the next few minutes._ Enterprise _out."_

She had been so wrapped up in her conversation with Picard that she had failed to notice what was happening in front of her. Pakel had managed to wriggle out of Markeil's grip, and was making a beeline for her. Pakel's swift hands took the communicator from her before she could even register what was going on, and he shouted something into it.

A minute later, a soldier came hurtling down the hallway. Gina stared at him. It was Jural. He had barely had the time to register the body on the floor, the pool of blood, before the room started shimmering and sparkling, and then he no longer was where he thought he was.


	22. At Last

Jural's brow was furrowed, his eyes narrowed, his phaser held shakily in his hand. Behind him, Lieutenant Gina Monroe was resolving to call control her emotions. She felt such relief, knowing that as her eyes adjusted to the welcome light hue of the transporter room, that she was on the  _Enterprise,_  that her friends and comrades were only metres away. And yet, that relief was tinged with sadness, and looking at Jural reminded her of that, as she remembered Meval.

The beam-up only took seconds, but Gina wondered if perhaps the transporter beam had malfunctioned, for she felt as though she had been in the beam for hours. But soon the humming and the shimmering stopped, and she was met with the round face of Charles McCrimmon.

"It's good to have you back, Lieutenant," McCrimmon said with a smile on his face and a glint in his eye.

She smiled. "It's good to be back, Chief."

The doors to the transporter room opened with a whoosh and in strode Captain Picard, Commander Riker and a security team. Markeil wondered if he recognised one of the security guards.

"Captain! Commander Riker!" Gina exclaimed, stepping off the platform; she had to remind herself not to pull her commanding officer into an embrace.

"You've been much missed, Lieutenant," Picard said shortly; his gaze flicked over to Markeil, who was still on the transporter platform. He was watching as the  _Enterprise's_  security team rounded up Pakel and Jural.

"Oh, I've missed being here, Captain."

A small smile graced his lips, then he looked over at the security team. "Take them to the brig. I'll be down there shortly to talk with the ringleader."

"Why don't you talk to  _him_  now?"

Gina recognised Pakel's voice, and she saw Markeil ball his hands into fists.

Picard located the speaker of the sarcastic question and narrowed his eyes. "Ah, you must be Pakel. Or, should I call you the Second Messiah?" He paused but did not smile. "We've time enough. I do suggest that you prepare a rather good statement, because once I've finished with you, you'll have all of the Federation – and your own world's statesmen – to answer to."

Pakel was led away, but not without a scowl and a swear.

"And I must express the Federation's thanks to you, Senator," Picard said.

Markeil nearly grinned. Three years ago, he had held the man prisoner. And now, they had worked together to save Hypnos. "I don't expect thanks, Captain."

"Then you'll be returning to Hypnos?" Riker asked. He had his arms folded and was stroking his thick beard.

"Not quite yet. I have some things to sort out here first," he finally said, looking at Gina.

"If you say so," Riker said simply, and there was a slight sparkle in his eyes as he spoke those words.

Picard turned to leave but stopped at the door. "Number One, see that adequate aid is given to those on Hypnos wounded by these events, and see if the Thanatosian Prime Minister is still prepared to offer help."

Riker nodded. "Aye, Sir."

Again, Picard paused. "Oh, and Lieutenant?"

Gina met his eye. "Captain?"

"Your husband has been trying to contact you."

"He has?"

"Of course, I told him what I could, which was... not very much."

"Thank you, Captain," she said, without even thinking. "I'll chase that up as soon as I'm back in my quarters."

****

Her quarters were just as she had left them. There were unfolded clothes and half-read books strewn across the floor, there were bowls and plates littering the tables. But she could still see the stars outside the window, distant and bright, and she looked again for Vulcan.

She caught sight of her reflection in the glass and decided that she ought to wash. When she was in, and out, of the shower, she got changed and sat at the computer console. She had twenty missed calls, all from the same person.

_"Gina? Oh, God, Gina! You're all right! I've been speaking with Captain Picard, but I go the impression he wasn'ttelling me everything. I mean, after the bombing at the Vulcan Embassy, I thought something might've happened to you, what with the Enterprise being the flagship and all. But, oh, I'm so glad you're okay!"_

"Alex..." she started, struggling to calm her breathing and still her heart. "I'm okay, honestly, I'm fine. There was just a bit of trouble with this whole Hypnos situation. Please, don't stress about it."

But he studied her beautiful face and, for the first time, found flaws in it.  _"Gina. There's something bothering you."_ A frown overcame his youthful features.

She thought about lying, about making something up. Half of her wanted to tell him that she'd be on the next transport to Vulcan, that she'd meet him there and that they'd travel together to Earth to pick up Jack. But she knew she wouldn't be able to feed the lie for long. Maybe a year, maybe two. Perhaps even longer. But not long enough, not for her, or him, or their son.

"I need to talk to you, Alex."

****

"Perhaps my timing is inopportune?"

She shrugged, sipped at her synthehol. "The door's already open, so you may as well come in."

The android wandered in almost nervously, warily. He stood over her for a minute until she waved him over, and he perched beside her on the couch.

"The layout of your quarters, Gina, is rather incoherent."

"Oh, Data," she murmured. "A lot of things in my life seem to be incoherent."

"Forgive me if I speak incorrectly, but you seem anguished."

"You speak very correctly, Data," she said, a slight smile curling on her lips. "I told Alex about Markeil and I. I feel so wrong, Data. Should I? Should I feel bad?"

He gave her no answer, only cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, I wasn't cheating on him. Nothing went on behind his back." Then she forced herself to cast her mind back to that day. "Well, not really. He took it quite well." A bitter laugh racked through her. "As well as anyone could."

"You are intent on pursuing a romantic relationship with Senator Markeil?" Data asked.

She nodded without hesitation. "I love him, Data. I really think I do."

"Amongst humanoids, love does seem to be a prerequisite for liasons involving carnal relations," he offered, innocently enough.

She smiled, took his hand in hers. "How are you?"

The question appeared to take him by surprise. "I am functioning within acceptable parameters."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Then... I am faring well." He paused.

"Have I missed anything much?"

"Missed?" He frowned, and his amber eyes darted left and right for a second. "Doctor Crusher has suggested, since I am... enthralled by the works adventures of Sherlock Holmes, that I create a series of holodeck programmes on the mysteries of Agatha Christie."

"Really?" She looked up, totally forgetting everything else for a moment. "That sounds really interesting."

"Commander La Forge, Doctor Crusher and myself are meeting in Holodeck Four next Friday at 1500 hours," he continued. "You are welcome to join. I was intending to make this a regular occurrence."

"I'd like that, Data."

The smile faded from her face when the commpanel buzzed.

"Who is it?"

 _"It's Markeil,"_  a slightly indignant voice replied.

"Do you wish for me to leave?" Data asked, starting to get up, only to have Gina pull him back down again.

"Come in, Markeil," she called.

The Hypnite narrowed his eyes at the android officer, and Gina wondered what he would say, what he would do.

"Data," Markeil announced with a brief smile. "It's good to see you."

Data blinked. "It is likewise acceptable to see you back on the  _Enterprise."_  He turned to Gina. "My shift on the bridge starts in ten minutes."

"See you later, Data," Gina said honestly, wholeheartedly. "And, thank you."

"Might I enquire as to why you are thanking me?"

"Oh, I don't know, Data. Too many things to count."

When at last the door had shut and they were alone, Markeil attempted to summon up the will to speak to her. He wanted to tell her – to show her – that he loved her. Yet each time he looked at her, he felt as if whatever they had between the two of them was wrong, forbidden, even.

"You don't need to look so sheepish." Her voice brought him out of his reverie. "I've told Alex. I told him everything. About Pakel, about being imprisoned, about us."

"Are you having doubts?" His tone was small, as if it was not his own.

She sidled over to him, looped her arms around his neck and drew his lips to hers. They touched softly, gently, as if savouring the sensation. His hands held her slim waist, his aquamarine eyes caught hers. "I'll never have doubts, Markeil." She fell silent, and so did he, but then a sort of mischievousness that she had not possessed in a long while came over her, and she bit her lip, looking up at him through her long lashes. "If Captain Picard doesn't need me, then perhaps we could go to bed?"

"Pakel's dead."

She extricated herself from his embrace and glowered at him. "What?"

"Commander Riker was going to tell you, but I said I'd break the news."

"What?" Her mouth fell open. "How? How did it happen?" She racked her brains, wondered if Pakel had left any clues, and she decided that it had to have been a suicide. He was a proud man, an arrogant man, and he saw himself as incapable of doing wrong. He would have viewed a Federation – or a Hypnite – court as simply a spinner of lies, a propagator or slander and libel. He had no desire to stand trial for actions he believed to be right.

"He was shot," Markeil finished, destroying her train of thought.

"Shot?" she repeated, imagining a scene wherein Pakel somehow managed to break free from the restraints of the security guards and was mown down by a phaser blast. But Starfleet phasers were never set to kill by default. If he had managed to get away, he surely would've only been heavily stunned, at worst.

"Captain Picard was there," Markeil carried on. "He said that just as the security team were leading Pakel and Jural into the brig, before they were in the cells, Jural somehow squirmed free and got hold of a phaser. He must've cranked up the setting and aimed it square at Pakel's face. Picard said he smiled when the beam hit him."

"But, why? Why would Jural do that?"

"Why would he kill the man who he thought of as a leader, a god?" Markeil said, taking her face in his hands. "I imagine he did it for the reason most people do a lot of things."

"Love." The word fell from her mouth nearly unbidden. "He loved Meval, and Pakel took him from him." A frown crossed her features. "But isn't that revenge?"

"Aren't they the same thing?"


	23. Epilogue

**One year later...**

"Actually, My Lord, it was in fact your son, the not-so-honourable Sebastian Applewhite, who is responsible for the maid's death."

"But-"

Data stalked around the room, the sound of his footsteps obscured by the wailing of Lord Applewhite's wife and the slow crackling of the fire. The android missed Holmes' pipe but was rather intrigued by Inspector Poirot's moustache. His pale fingers kept wandering to his upperlip to toy with it.

"Computer, end programme."

The opulent drawing room of the country manor was replaced by the black and yellow grid pattern of the  _Enterprise's_  holosuite, and the holograms all disappeared.

Lieutenant Gina Monroe beamed at him. "Bravo, Data!"

"Gina, there is no reason to praise my performance. I was merely adhering to a script," Data said simply.

She sighed, but the smile was still there. "This has been really nice, Data. I only wish Geordi and Beverly could've made it."

"It is unfortunate that their duty schedules did not permit them to spend these hours in recreational activities."

"Actually, Data, I'm glad they're not here," she said quickly, standing beside him in her glamorous flapper's dress. She had resorted to removing the headband some time into the programme; it had been rather too tight. "You see... I'm pregnant."

The android's yellow eyes darted from left to right. "I am... pleased for you. May I ask... does Markeil know?"

A smile came to her face. "He does; he's ever so excited. I'm going to tell Jack in a few weeks' time, when I see him during my next shore leave."

They left the holodeck and came to the corridor. Half a dozen crewmembers – blurs or red, yellow and blue – marched past them.

"Data, I wanted to ask you something. Well, it was Markeil's idea."

He cocked his head, frowned.

"Will you be the child's godfather?"

"Yes, Gina. I will."

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's read this. I hope you enjoyed it! When** **I've got the time (and inclination), I'd really like to continue this story further and make it into a trilogy - let me know if you've got any wishes/thoughts about what the future holds for Gina, Data, Picard, Markeil, Nilal, Kiras, Jural, Smithson, McCrimmon** **_et al._ Perhaps there's a crossover between this fic and one of my other ones in the pipeline?**

**P.S. My inspiration for this fic came partially from Bob Dylan's _Tangled Up In Blue_  and Tracey Ullman's  _They Don't Know._**

**I also hope to be publishing new fics very soon.**

**Live Long and Prosper.**


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